Reality Collides: The Ezekiel Chronicles

by CaioCoia

A devoted Cartoon Network fan finds himself inexplicably transported into Total Drama world, assuming the role of the misunderstood character Ezekiel. With real-world knowledge and a burning desire for redemption, he must navigate challenges, alliances, and drama to rewrite Ezekiel's fate. Can he change his own destiny and make his Total Drama dreams come true? An Ezekiel S.I

66. Interlude Action3-Learning from the best

Author's note: I know this may be annoying, but Fanfiction clearly had been bugging me from some of my fanfics being glitched in some areas, I don't even know if I should be deleting my fanfics and start publishing all over again, but that's a problem Fanfiction needing fixing.

So in my other options I will be publishing also in AO3 and in Wattpad in the future.

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Now answering the reviews:

Crazed Fruitloop - Welcome to the server reviews, depending on the circunstances from a lot of guest reviewers, I may not be able to answer all of them, so please have patience in case you won't be able to get answered. Anyway, I'm glad you like the chapter. Have fun reading this one.

LCradaLoranH4 - Merci Beaucoup

Guest - I'm glad you liked the chapter, well, that would depends on the view for those who would watch Total Drama Action and World Tour, for me I didn't like her on both of seasons, but there's still people liking her even after the events. For me many characters could have a better development, but in the end mistakes happened, and they were a bunch of teenagers, however in our day now, many of those events would lead to cancelling. Anyway, have fun reading this chapter.

HeavenlyMark – I'm glad you liked it. Have fun reading this chapter.

(Hyper LOL Guest

Crazy mad guest

Guesthouse

Le Quack

Sleepy guest

Ghostly guest

Just a wee guest

Mr. E Guest

Eccentric Guest )

Guys, we may need to talk. I appreciate the reviews and etc… but the more and more guest reviews appear, I may not be able to answer all of you in all the chapters. I hope you guys understand, but there's 13 guest reviewers now. And it may be over complicated for me to answer you all. So I will be selecting which few of you I will be answering, and in case I won't be able to answer you all, please patience.

Guesthouse - I'm glad you liked the chapter, and I did a lot of work to make everything would be set right, and thank you for the suggestions, however I have in mind some plans for what to do in the future.

Le Quack – Well the answers will come with this chapter. I hope you guys like it.

Ghostly guest – Yep, this will be interesting to play around in the future, sadly I had other plans into what would be the chapter of today. I hope you like it.

Nickvan2024 – Yep, if Chris try to grasp their names it could cause a lot of problems for him, but still he would try to create drama with the pool.

Toonfan97 - I'm glad you liked so much, I wanted to make it sure things would be interesting for everyone. So I hope you like this chapter as well. XD

xXwolfsterXx644 - Nobody knows what could happens in the future, poor Ezekiel, he has no idea on how the season would end, and how everything can turn the events of their lives.

Djinn - Yeah, this time everyone who knows about the contract isn't going to let Chris use it as the way he would be like in the last season, this time two teams will have their own dinamics and also their strugles, Sierra is a danger in some cases, while everyone doesn't want people to get involved with Chris madness.

Benny Farr - Yeah, Ezekiel is still doing his harsh training, but when the time comes he would get stronger, but not without paying the price. But still having the support of his pa, and the book of his aunt, it clearly would show how it means to him to continue on the competition.

Guest - Hell's Bell's is still will take a while. I'm trying to find inspiration to write the next chapter. But I think it would be easier for me to conclude Wilderness of a Thespian. I think soon I will be ready to write the ending of one of my first Helluva Boss fanfics. So I hope you don't mind I got from there first.

Blagoj Pejov1 - Yes it indeed was.

Nickdavi99 - Culpa Del Fanfiction.

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Also for everyone. Please read the Omake and my final notes on the end of this chapter. Even if the Omake isn't canon, the message was very important for me to make. So I hope you all understand.

Anyway, have fun reading the chapter.

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To say Gwen's choice of team was strong would be up for debate. She was tired and sluggish that morning, thanks to the absurd new wake-up schedule that had everyone dragging themselves out of bed at 5 a.m. sharp before every challenge. She couldn't help but think she should have been more strategic when selecting her team. Still, she couldn't complain too much—she had managed to snag some solid players.

Eva, for instance, was a powerhouse in every sense of the word. Her fierce determination and MVP status made her invaluable, and her mere glare was enough to whip others into shape. Gwen knew that Eva's intensity, while overwhelming at times, could be the key to keeping the team's morale and focus on track. On the other hand, Gwen was relieved there hadn't been an elimination during the last challenge. It was proof that relying solely on brute strength wasn't always the best approach.

Trent had secured Ezekiel and Harold for his team—two strong players from Gwen's former group. Harold was the textbook definition of a wildcard—unpredictable yet undeniably skilled, as long as someone could rein in his overblown ego. Thankfully, everyone from the Killer Bass, Gwen included, had experience managing him. Ezekiel, however, was another story altogether. As one of the Three Pillars of Killer Bass, alongside Duncan and Courtney, Ezekiel's presence brought stability and leadership that elevated the entire team. But with Duncan and Courtney eliminated last week, the remaining Killer Bass members had to lean even harder on Ezekiel. Gwen understood that, if she was on the same team as Ezekiel she would have relied on him. So maybe that's why Trent had chosen Ezekiel—it was a blow to anyone from the Killer Bass who wasn't on his team. Because she'd feel the loss too.

Still, being responsible for figuring out how to manage a mix of personalities and play to everyone's strengths wasn't something Gwen relished. Last season had been easier—Ezekiel, Courtney, and Duncan had clearly understood how to lead their team with balance and cooperation. That kind of synergy was rare, and Gwen doubted they could replicate it again, especially with the diverse mix of characters this season.

Despite the challenges, there were silver linings. Gwen's team included Geoff, Sadie, Eva, and DJ, all of whom brought something valuable to the table. Geoff's laid-back and positive energy kept things light, while Sadie's growing determination added a surprising edge. DJ's raw strength made him an obvious asset, but it was his skill in crafting impressive sandwiches from the minibar ingredients in Gwen's fancy trailer that added an unexpected bonus.

Sadie, in particular, was a standout. The chubby girl had committed herself fully to Eva's intense training regime, not just for personal growth but also to become strong enough to protect her best friend Katie—and maybe even her entire team. Gwen couldn't help but respect Sadie's bold move to join the opposing team, a decision that spoke to how much she had grown. But putting herself through the same grueling and hellish training that Ezekiel and Sadie had endured? Hard pass.

"I'm so glad I refused the offer," Gwen muttered under her breath, shaking her head as she scribbled in her diary. "No way I'm putting myself through the torture Sadie and Ezekiel willingly signed up for."

Suddenly, a loud, frantic shout pierced the air, causing Gwen to freeze mid-sentence. "NOOOOO, LEAVE ME ALONE!" The unmistakable voice of Owen rang out, his panic reverberating across the set. Gwen blinked in surprise, closing her diary and getting up to investigate.

Walking toward the girls' trailer, Gwen was greeted by the sight of Owen sprinting at full speed, flailing his arms like a windmill, while Eva pursued him with fiery determination. Her booming voice made the entire set feel like it was shaking.

"GET BACK HERE!" Eva roared, her sharp tone echoing like thunder. "IT'S FOR YOUR OWN HEALTH AND SAFETY! YOUR OVERWEIGHT HAS BEEN DAMAGING YOU IN THE LAST CHALLENGES!"

Owen's expression was a mix of raw terror and desperation, his feet pounding against the ground as he zigzagged in a futile attempt to evade Eva's wrath. His panicked cries only added to the absurdity of the situation. Gwen raised a skeptical eyebrow and approached Leshawna and Justin, who were standing nearby, watching the scene unfold with amusement.

"What's going on?" Gwen asked, her tone calm but curious as she tilted her head toward her friends.

Justin, leaning casually against the side of the trailer, turned to Gwen with an amused smirk. "Eva was helping Sadie with her training earlier," he began. "And Owen said—rather loudly, mind you—that he was glad he'd never have to do any of those terrifying exercises. Then he added that he'd rather die overweight than go through all that."

"Uh-huh," Gwen said, her lips twitching into a knowing smirk. "Let me guess—he said it loud enough for Eva to overhear, and now she's taking it personally?"

"Exactly," Leshawna chimed in, folding her arms across her chest. She shook her head, laughing softly. "And now she's on a mission to make sure he regrets every word. Poor boy didn't know what he was walking into."

Gwen shrugged, her demeanor as nonchalant as ever despite the chaos unraveling before her. "You should never provoke Eva," she remarked, watching Owen dart behind a stack of props in a desperate attempt to find cover. "She's a great friend, but once she's focused on you, it's over. You're in for a long season."

Leshawna let out a hearty laugh, watching as Owen ducked and dodged while Eva shouted instructions at him, determined to push him into some sort of training routine. "That girl's like a human tank when she's mad," Leshawna said, shaking her head with a grin.

"More like a drill sergeant," Justin corrected, chuckling. "I wouldn't wanna be in Owen's shoes right now. No way."

"But still, someone I could trust my life with," Gwen muttered, her voice thoughtful as she glanced at the group around her. She wasn't entirely sure how to navigate her dynamic with Justin and Leshawna. While they had been her teammates before she was transferred to the Killer Bass last season, their bond felt… tenuous. There was a hint of companionship, maybe, but it didn't compare to the trust she had in Sadie and Eva—two people she felt she could rely on without hesitation. And speaking of Sadie…

"I don't understand why Owen would say something so loud and stupid," Sadie said, wiping sweat from her brow. She was dressed in a black top, and it was becoming increasingly clear that her once-chubby frame was transforming. Her muscles were more defined now, and faint marks of abs were beginning to show—a fact that hadn't gone unnoticed by Justin, whose gaze lingered a little too long.

"I mean, yeah, it's hellish torture," Sadie continued, oblivious to Justin's attention. "But it's worth it. Ezekiel's been focusing on weight training to build his inner strength, and me? I'm loving seeing my raw strength improve. Helping Katie against that bear during the last challenge? That made my day."

"I'm just surprised PETA hasn't sued the show yet," Gwen commented dryly, crossing her arms as her gaze shifted to Geoff and Jude practicing skating nearby. "I mean, they're using bears just to intimidate and get hurt by contestants. How is that even legal?"

Sadie chuckled, following Gwen's gaze. "Huh, it's nice to see them having fun. And, most importantly, I haven't seen Geoff kissing Bridgette yet. That's gotta be a record."

"Yep," Sadie agreed with a smirk. "Do we need to keep the anti-horny spray on standby, just in case?"

Gwen snorted, nodding. "Always."

"I'm still curious," Leshawna chimed in, raising an eyebrow. "Why do you guys always keep water mixed with pepper spray on hand?"

Sadie and Gwen exchanged amused glances, musing for a moment before Gwen answered. "Precaution," she said simply. "Geoff and Bridgette can go at it for hours if you let them. Separating them is the only way to keep them focused. Sure, Geoff gets annoyed, but it's better than losing him to a make-out session when we need him for a challenge."

"Exactly," Sadie added with a grin. "It's all about priorities."

"Huh, that's… interesting," Leshawna said, shaking her head with a chuckle. "Anyway, we've got a solid team now. Three strong people who can carry all the weight we need. Any challenge should be a breeze for us."

Justin, ever confident, chimed in with a grin. "Yeah, we've got this. No challenge can stop us."

Sadie cringed slightly at his overconfidence, while Gwen deadpanned, her arms crossing tighter. "Yeah, unless it's something like an acting challenge," she said pointedly, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She didn't bother hiding her irritation—Justin's performance during the last acting challenge had been abysmal. If it were up to her, he'd be the first one voted off.

"Well, I still think we did fine," Justin said with a carefree shrug, clearly oblivious to the tension in the air.

The group exchanged glances, their expressions ranging from disbelief to barely-contained amusement. Leshawna, never one to hold back, crossed her arms and fixed Justin with a pointed look. "Sugar, you're hot, handsome, and all that, but you were terrible in the acting challenge. Really terrible. I think my momma could've done better than you."

Justin scoffed, brushing off the comment, but the truth of Leshawna's words hung in the air. Gwen smirked slightly, satisfied that someone had said what she was thinking. As the group settled into a moment of silence, the tension eased slightly, but the unspoken question lingered: how long could Justin's charm carry him before his lack of skill caught up with him?

---

"How's your new team, Beth?" Heather asked, her tone sharp yet curious as the quartet lounged inside the fancy trailer. The shouts of Owen running around in panic outside were casually ignored, a chaotic backdrop they had become all too accustomed to. Meanwhile, Beth was focused on her current activity—practicing her makeup skills, with Lindsay chiming in occasionally to offer pointers on where to add different touches of color.

"Well…" Beth began, glancing up as she carefully applied eyeshadow. "I'm still having some problems with them, but most of them are nice." She smiled briefly, though her tone faltered as she added, "It's just Leshawna who thought Brady wasn't real."

Heather instantly deadpanned, crossing her arms in annoyance. "You told them about your boyfriend?" she asked, her voice laced with irritation. "I told you not to reveal that so quickly. Now they're going to think you're making it up."

"I know, I know," Beth said, her voice sheepish as she lowered her gaze. "Eva even told me we shouldn't talk about personal relationships on television. And, honestly, I think I made a mistake exposing that so soon. But Sadie said it showed I cared and missed him, and… well, she's not wrong. It was true."

Heather sighed, her expression softening slightly as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Just don't let them use it against you," she said firmly, giving Beth a pointed look. "Seriously. If they think you're lying, they'll pounce on it."

Beth nodded quickly, her grip tightening on her makeup brush. "You don't need to tell me twice. Leshawna's already been a jerk about it, but I'm trying to focus on the challenges. Even if Justin—who, yeah, is handsome and hot—still managed to mess up the whole thing," she added, cringing at the memory of the previous disaster.

"Justin's a liar," Izzy said calmly, leaning back with an expression that balanced amusement and sharp observation. "He acts like he's a pro, but he sucks—badly. And trust me, you girls have no idea how much I was in the zone during that challenge." She leaned forward slightly, her piercing green eyes gleaming with pride and quiet determination. Acting was a deeply personal passion for Izzy, one rooted in her days of playing the fool during Season 1. Winning the challenge had been a vindicating moment for her, especially after Ezekiel had privately shared how, in an alternate past, she had lost the same challenge to Duncan—a loss that had stung her pride, her stomach, and even her soul. Proving herself as an actress now meant everything.

"It's kind of like how Tyler tries to do flips when he's nervous—he's either amazing or… well, you know, not," Lindsay chimed in, her light voice carrying a hint of amusement as she considered Justin's lackluster performance. Her comment earned chuckles from the group. "He tried to do a flip a few times and ended up hitting his head on the table. Poor guy."

"He must be building up karma," Izzy remarked, her tone tinged with humor as the others stared at her, intrigued. "It's a joke the Killer Bass toss around. Apparently, Tyler's family has this running streak of bad luck—annoyances, injuries, and the like—before they hit an insane stroke of good luck. It's kind of a weird inside joke."

"How do you even know that?" Beth asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

Izzy shrugged casually, her expression unreadable but confident. "You hear a lot when you spend time around people. But let's not veer off-track here." Straightening slightly, Izzy's voice took on a lighter tone as she continued, "Leshawna's been burning bridges left and right. The Killer Bass? They're united like a net full of fish. And as for the former Screaming Gophers? If she keeps provoking you, all you'll need to do is rally the votes against her. Easy peasy."

"Well said," Heather remarked, a sly grin spreading across her face as she picked up her sleek communicator—a prize she'd won in the last season. The trailer's internet access allowed Heather to dive into the Total Drama forums whenever boredom struck. She often found herself scrolling through posts or leaving snarky comments on her siblings' social media accounts, which was one of her favorite pastimes.

Heather smirked as she navigated the forums, until it came a post where she knew what she wanted, and passed the communicator to Beth who had her wide, surprised eyes.

"What is it?" Beth asked, her sharp tone betraying a hint of worry.

"Oh, the classic 'I have a boyfriend, and I'm a better girlfriend than you'll ever be' tactic?" Izzy chimed in, her tone carrying a trace of mischief as she chuckled softly. She couldn't help but draw comparisons between Heather's sharp attitude and her mom, Shego—a tough, unapologetically cunning presence that Izzy secretly admired. "Heather, you would've made a killer drill sergeant if you were in the military. My mom would've loved training you."

Heather's smirk instantly faded, replaced by a visible shudder as she narrowed her eyes at Izzy. "Oh, hell no. I don't ever want to deal with your crazy family again," Heather shot back, the memory of being hunted down by Shego sparking a faint, lingering PTSD.

Meanwhile, Beth continued reading through the forum comments, her expression tightening as she recognized something familiar. Among the constant battles between two user accounts, one stood out—a name everyone in Playa Del Losers knew all too well. Though her thoughts lingered on the identity of the account, Heather's voice broke through.

"When it comes to putting someone in their place, you need to have a sharp tongue," Heather said firmly, turning to Beth. "If you want to defend what's yours, you've got to be ready for the insults they'll throw at you—and you've got to be ready to throw them right back."

"But using Sierra?" Beth asked, her voice laced with a mix of surprise and worry. Her grip tightened on her makeup brush, and she glanced nervously at Izzy.

"Oh, so that's her name?" Heather said, tilting her head curiously. Her tone was nonchalant, but the sharp glint in her eyes showed she was already scheming. Izzy and Beth exchanged a look, clearly reluctant to elaborate, but they knew there was no stopping Heather once her interest was piqued.

"She's a big deal, Heather," Izzy began, her voice calm but firm. Her serious demeanor set the tone immediately. "And while I'm all for helping Beth sharpen her wit, we need to tread carefully with Sierra. She and Leshawna have been locked in a constant battle on the forums, and it's pretty clear they hate each other's guts. Sierra isn't just your average troll, either. She's relentless and knows how to dig up dirt on people—like, seriously personal stuff."

Heather raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "How personal are we talking?" she asked, her tone casual, though the calculating edge was unmistakable.

Izzy folded her arms and leaned back slightly, her green eyes sharp and focused. "Very," she said flatly. "From what I heard from Ezekiel and Cody, Sierra once filed a missing person report on Cody with the police. All because he spent some time with Katie during the break before we came back here."

"What?!" Beth exclaimed, her eyes wide with alarm. "Are you serious? That's… that's insane! Why would she do something like that?"

"She's obsessed," Izzy replied, her tone even but carrying the weight of her words. "She doesn't just troll for fun. She's the kind of person who gets under your skin and doesn't stop until she's gotten what she wants—or until you're too exhausted to fight back. If we get her involved, we need to be smart about it. Let her drop a few subtle comments—things that'll raise Leshawna's ire but won't come back to bite us. That's the key."

Heather smirked, already seeing the potential. "Like what?" she asked, leaning forward slightly.

Izzy's lips curled into a sly smile. "Oh, something simple. Like saying Harold deserves someone better. That'll hit Leshawna where it hurts without being outright hostile. She won't be able to let it slide."

"Harold deserves someone better?" Lindsay repeated, blinking in confusion. "But Harold and Leshawna are so cute together. Why would that bother her so much?"

"Well, Lindsay, I've got some bad news," Beth said hesitantly, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she glanced at her friend. "Leshawna's been giving Harold the cold shoulder lately, saying they're moving too fast. And, honestly, I've noticed the guys from Killer Bass watching her constantly. I don't know what she said to them, but I saw them glaring at her once before going back to their own business."

"She must've said something about the nerd," Heather interjected, her tone sharp and unapologetic. "Which clearly proves she's not as innocent or awesome as she likes to pretend. Huh, I don't blame them. That bitch threw me off a cliff during a challenge we lost. And you know what? Karma's a beautiful thing. I'm still popular, while she's stuck dealing with a troll. Oh, how I love karma."

Izzy coughed lightly, drawing the group's attention as she decided to steer the conversation back on track. "It's not about Harold himself," she explained patiently, her tone calm but deliberate. "Sierra's aiming straight for Leshawna's pride. We've all seen how Sierra implies Leshawna's not good enough, and that's enough to send her into a frenzy. All we had to do back then was sit back and let the fireworks start."

Beth hesitated, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of her brush. "I don't know… I don't want to stir up trouble just for the sake of it."

Heather rolled her eyes, her tone firm but not unkind. "Beth, this isn't about stirring up trouble—it's about protecting yourself. You can't let her think she's got the upper hand in everything. You need to level the playing field. We can't protect you since you're on a different team."

"And you won't even have to think too hard or anything," Lindsay added brightly, her cheerful tone cutting through the tension as she gave Beth an encouraging smile. "You just need to use Sierra's comments. When Leshawna starts acting like a total bitch, you just repeat those words and let her blow a fuse."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Izzy said, leaning back and placing her hands behind her head as she stretched out on her bed.

Beth glanced between Heather, Izzy, and Lindsay, her uncertainty still evident but slowly giving way to determination. She didn't like the idea of exploiting drama, but she also knew she couldn't let Leshawna keep targeting her. If this was a way to turn the tables without getting directly involved, it might just be worth it. It was a self-defense tactic, after all.

"And how about the other members of the team? Are they bullying you too?" Lindsay asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

"Oh no, they've been very understanding," Beth replied quickly, shaking her head. "Since Ezekiel's pact during the Dodgebrawl episode, they remembered he told them I had a chance to get a supermodel as a model. They've been pretty open-minded about it since it clearly happened."

Heather raised an eyebrow, intrigued, while Lindsay tilted her head in confusion. "Wait, what do you mean?" Lindsay asked.

"Oh, sorry, I can't say more," Beth said with a sheepish smile. "There's a pool happening around, and I bet 50 bucks to see it happen."

"A pool?" Lindsay's eyes lit up with excitement. "Oh, I love pools! Especially when I'm wearing my swimsuit." She clapped her hands together, her enthusiasm earning a mix of reactions from the group.

Heather rolled her eyes, letting out a small sigh as she facepalmed lightly with a smile. "She meant a bet, Lindsay."

"Oh… that sucks," Lindsay said, her excitement fading slightly. "I wanted to know what the bet was about."

"Sorry, I can't say," Beth replied, her smile widening as she watched Lindsay pout. "Especially not on television."

Beth glanced around at her friends, her heart warming at their support. Yeah, she was loving having good friends.

---

After speaking with his Pa earlier that day, Ezekiel never imagined he would feel renewed enough to attempt another trial so soon. Yet here he was, enduring another grueling effort—and failing once again. He felt his stomach twist into emptiness, his head light and pounding, and blood trickling from his nose as a sharp reminder of the mental strain he'd endured. It was a taxing experience, but one he intended to face head-on. He'd been through worse, and this wouldn't break him.

Sipping a warm tea infused with calming herbs, accompanied by a few biscuits and slices of bread, Ezekiel tried to settle his nerves and restore a semblance of strength before dinner. His training regime had become an evolving challenge, demanding he adapt and push himself further than he thought possible. Chef, ever the drill sergeant, had recently shown him video clips of Capoeira training—a fluid, dance-like martial art that thrilled Ezekiel to his core. The promise of starting Capoeira in the days after the next challenge excited him enough to keep going, but patience, he reminded himself, would be vital for now.

Later that night, Ezekiel ventured to one of the cliffs overlooking the abandoned movie studio sets. The eerie quiet of the location lent itself to contemplation, the world hushed but vast, as if inviting him to reflect. The view was nothing short of stunning—the sky turned deep shades of pink and orange as dusk settled in, and the faint outline of distant hills painted the horizon. Ezekiel found himself sitting near the edge, alone in the stillness, letting the sight ease his restless thoughts.

As he reached into his pocket, his fingers brushed against something familiar. Pulling it out, Ezekiel smiled softly at the metal harmonica resting in his palm. It was an old companion he hadn't touched in years, its surface cool and comforting against his skin. The harmonica carried not only sentimental value but the weight of his past life—a connection to the person he was before his soul transitioned into this world. It reminded him of surviving a traumatic landslide, the memory still vivid, and the harmonica's presence grounding him in moments of doubt.

He chuckled to himself, recalling the silly harmonica rap he'd once created in another life—a naïve dream of becoming a rapper when he was just a boy. The memories of being reduced to a running joke by the creators of Total Drama Island surfaced in his mind. Initially, the humor seemed lighthearted, but over time, the caricature of Ezekiel had spiraled into something monstrous—an absurd depiction that painted him as the "beast" or "Gollum" of the series. The trajectory felt cruel, and though Ezekiel wasn't resentful, he couldn't deny the bittersweet feeling of seeing those moments from a detached perspective. He knew that in their own way, the creators had later acknowledged their mistake, imagining Ezekiel's redemption as a CEO in their headcanon, trying to bring closure to his unfair treatment.

The thoughts left a peculiar peace in Ezekiel's soul as he stared out at the evening sky. He wasn't yet ready to play any of the Cartoon Network melodies that rested in his mind, preferring instead to contemplate which songs suited the harmonica's tones. His memory held onto snippets of harmonica tabs he'd learned from idle moments spent watching tutorials, even imagining the possibilities if he had an Ocarina like in The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. There were countless songs he could perform with enough practice, but for now, the harmonica sufficed.

Closing his eyes, he allowed a melody to form—a tune buried deep in his subconscious, something reflective and fitting for the serene beauty unfolding around him. The base wasn't secret, but it felt like a sanctuary all the same. A solitary yet welcoming place on the cliff, its open space is home to two sets where movie scenes could be crafted and cameras rolled whenever needed. But tonight, it wasn't about making videos or gathering teammates. It was about Ezekiel finding a moment of peace and letting the harmonica's notes echo into the dusk.

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Ezekiel carefully positioned the harmonica against his lips, recalling the tabs he had memorized years ago. As he started to play, the melody stirred a distant memory—one from the time he had visited a cousin in Peru. His cousin had been a fan of a television show about a peculiar troll resembling a hippopotamus who lived in Moominvalley, alongside a man who played the harmonica. That harmonica player, a wandering soul embodying the essence of freedom, had always captivated Ezekiel.

A philosophical vagabond, the character roamed the world, disappearing during the cold grip of winter and autumn only to return in the soft warmth of spring and linger until late summer. The thought brought a wistful smile to Ezekiel's face. Spring had always been his favorite season in both his past and present lives. He cherished the fresh scent of budding leaves, the gentle breeze that carried the promise of renewal, and the beauty of snow receding to reveal a vibrant, living landscape. Spring wasn't just a season for him—it was a metaphor for transformation and growth, something he held onto tightly.

Now, as he stood on the edge of the cliff under the hues of dusk, Ezekiel began playing the "Bridget Harmonica Song." The serene evening backdrop amplified the sweetness of the tune. The notes spilled into the quiet air like whispers of nostalgia, creating a moment of peace amidst the chaos of his life.

The harmonica's music was doing more than filling the silence—it was soothing his frayed nerves, easing the mental toll of his recent challenges. The training had been demanding. Forcing him to adapt and grow in ways he hadn't thought possible. Still, he couldn't complain. The hard work was balanced by the excitement he found in the challenges, and that balance reminded him to appreciate the little things in life.

Like Snufkin, the wandering harmonica player, Ezekiel found inspiration in the idea of adventure for adventure's sake—capturing the essence of freedom and living for the moments that truly mattered. He paused his playing briefly, gazing out at the soft hues of the evening sky blending into twilight.

"Maybe I should take trips across the world, visit some countries after this season," Ezekiel mused aloud, his voice breaking the stillness. His thoughts wandered to the upcoming World Tour—an opportunity to travel across countries, albeit under strange and competitive circumstances. However, he doubted the show would allow them to truly enjoy their destinations. Each country would serve as little more than a backdrop for a challenge, and before anyone could soak it in, someone would be ejected from the airplane. A proper exploration seemed out of reach in that format.

Traveling the world on his own terms, though, was a different story. That dream would take planning—money, research, and access—but it was a dream worth holding onto. Ezekiel could almost imagine it: walking through vibrant cityscapes, hiking across serene countrysides, soaking in the history and culture of distant lands. The thought filled him with a quiet determination.

Bringing the harmonica back to his lips, he resumed playing. The music carried his thoughts, blending with the cool evening air as the cliffside bathed in the last remnants of light. Alone but not lonely, Ezekiel let the moment ground him, the melody echoing his desire for freedom, adventure, and self-discovery.

Ezekiel's mind wandered as he played the soft, soulful tune on his harmonica, the music carrying his thoughts like a gentle breeze. The melody filled the quiet evening air, blending seamlessly with the tranquil atmosphere of the cliffside. But as his fingers moved across the instrument, he suddenly felt a presence nearby. He stopped playing, lowering the harmonica as he turned to see Bridgette standing a few feet away, her expression lit with pleasant surprise.

"Oh my God, Zeke, that was such a wonderful song," Bridgette exclaimed, her voice warm with genuine admiration. The compliment brought a small, bashful smile to Ezekiel's face as he slid the harmonica back into his pocket.

"Didn't you say you didn't know how to play an instrument?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she tilted her head curiously.

"Yeah, I did," Ezekiel admitted with a light chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. "But funny thing—I was going through my old backpack and found this harmonica buried in there. I hadn't played it in, like, two years, and I kinda forgot I even knew how. So, I figured I'd see if I was still any good or if I was completely rusty."

Bridgette nodded, a soft smile gracing her lips as she took a step closer. Ezekiel gestured for her to sit beside him, but she hesitated, glancing nervously at the edge of the cliff.

"Err… actually, no," she said, crossing her arms and giving the steep drop a wary glance. "I don't think I want to sit that close to the edge. One wrong move and, well…" She trailed off, shuddering slightly at the thought.

"Suit yourself," Ezekiel replied with a shrug, turning his gaze back to the view. Bridgette found a safer spot a few steps away and settled herself down, brushing some loose strands of hair behind her ear.

"I was wandering around, checking out the area," Bridgette began, her tone thoughtful. "Since our old base at the Aquarium was back on Wawanakwa, and with all the tension between the girls on opposite teams, I thought it might be smart to scope out a new base. You know, somewhere quiet where we can all get along. Honestly, I thought this place would be deserted until I heard you playing your harmonica."

"Yeah, this place is interesting," Ezekiel said, nodding as he gestured toward the expanse of the cliffside. "I did some exploring earlier, and, surprise—this spot's actually perfect. There are no Pay-Per-View cameras watching this area. There's a camera there, there, and there," he pointed out, motioning toward different spots in the distance, "but this spot and a few other areas around here? Total blind spots. We could do whatever we want here, and no one watching from home would know."

"Seriously?" Bridgette asked, her eyes lighting up with intrigue. "That's… actually amazing. I had no idea."

Before she could say anything more, Ezekiel cut in with a teasing smirk, still staring out at the view. "No, you cannot bring Geoff here just to use the blind spots to kiss him."

Bridgette's jaw dropped in exaggerated indignation as she pouted at him. "Zeke!" she protested, though her tone was more playful than offended.

Ezekiel chuckled at her reaction, finally glancing her way with a mischievous glint in his eye. "What? You were thinking it."

Bridgette crossed her arms, unable to suppress a small smile. "Fine, you got me," she said with a laugh. "But this place really isn't bad. Although…" She cast another glance around. "It would've been better if it had an actual roof or something. You know, to make it feel like a proper base."

"Yeah," Ezekiel agreed, nodding thoughtfully. "A roof would've been nice. Still, not bad for a makeshift hideout, right?"

Bridgette smiled, settling into the quiet moment between them. The sky above shifted into deeper hues as the sun continued its slow descent, casting a warm glow over the cliff. For a moment, they simply sat there, appreciating the stillness and the sense of peace it offered.

.

.

.

"So those gift boxes from the votations… they're really that good?" Bridgette asked, tilting her head curiously as she looked over at Ezekiel. The duo was lounging on the couch of the movie set where Izzy had delivered her victorious performance during the last challenge.

"Yep," Ezekiel replied, nodding confidently. "Sadly, I can't tell you exactly what I got—rules and all, could cause disqualification—but let's just say mine was really worth it. 1200 points, Bridgette. I highly recommend using your box if you ever get the chance. Trust me, you won't regret it."

Bridgette returned his nod, though a thoughtful expression crossed her face. "I'll keep that in mind," she said sincerely, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "But honestly, I don't think I have the mentality for acting during a challenge. I still don't know how you and Izzy managed to rack up all those points last time. Even Owen got some good ones! But me? Acting isn't exactly my thing."

"Hey," Ezekiel said with an encouraging tone, leaning forward slightly. "Everyone has talents they don't even realize they have. I mean, Courtney never thought she'd be a great singer, right? But after the talent show, people started singing her song from the stage. You never know what'll surprise you."

"Well, yeah, I guess you've got a point," Bridgette admitted, nodding again. "Still, I think you've got a special kind of talent, Zeke. That Steven Universe song you wrote was amazing. I'm curious—do you have more songs planned? I know you're close to releasing the audiobook for Courage the Cowardly Dog, and I can't wait to listen to the Steven Universe and Adventure Time audiobooks too. You've gotta be thinking about a ton of songs with all the creative work you're doing."

Ezekiel chuckled warmly, his cheeks coloring faintly at the praise. "Yeah, I've been thinking about songs and ideas. Thanks, Bridgette. Hey…" He paused, his tone shifting to something more curious. "Can I ask you something? Who are your favorite characters from my books?"

Bridgette blinked, surprised by the question, but a thoughtful smile quickly spread across her face. Ezekiel leaned back slightly, waiting patiently as she mulled over her answer.

"Well, let's see…" she began. "From Steven Universe, I'd say Lapis Lazuli. There's just something about her being able to control water—it's beautiful and powerful at the same time. And her tragic past? It gives her friendship with Steven so much depth and meaning. For Courage the Cowardly Dog, well… I like Courage, obviously. He's such a great character—a brave, loyal dog who overcomes everything thrown at him. And for Adventure Time… " She hesitated briefly, her voice softening as she continued, "I'd say Finn. As much as he's just a kid, being the only human in Ooo until now, while so many others became monsters or lost their minds… Finn carries a lot of pressure on his shoulders. Yet he still protects the people he cares about. You've captured his story so well, even if I did think it was a bit harsh for you to give him a phobia of the ocean."

Ezekiel laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, every great hero has a weakness and a phobia, right? Finn's fear is justifiable—and hilarious when done right." His grin softened into a warm smile as he added, "Thanks, Bridgette. That means a lot."

Bridgette tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "Hmm. Why the question, Ezekiel?"

He paused for a few seconds before answering, his gaze thoughtful. "It's because I've been working on something new—an alternative universe. A gender swap version of Finn. I'm planning to call her Fionna." Ezekiel pointed toward the other set, where stacks of drawing papers were spread across a table. "I've been sketching out ideas for her story. If you're interested, you should check out the drawings. I think you'll like them."

"I thought you weren't planning to write the second Adventure Time book," Bridgette asked, her voice curious as she watched Ezekiel shrug casually.

"I'm not," Ezekiel replied, standing up and stretching. "But sometimes inspiration hits out of nowhere. I figured I'd prep a bit—just in case I get inspired to write a chapter for the next book when the time comes." He began pacing, his thoughts spinning, when suddenly an idea struck him. He turned toward Bridgette with a bright smile, his enthusiasm catching her off guard. "Hey, are you any good at singing?"

Bridgette blinked, her eyebrows rising slightly at the unexpected question. She hesitated, then shrugged. "Well, I think so? I'm not a professional singer or anything, but I don't think I'm terrible. " She noticed Ezekiel's grin widen, the mischievous glint in his eyes making her wonder what she'd just signed up for.

Moments later, Bridgette stood near Ezekiel, holding a sheet of lyrics in her hands as she shot him a skeptical look. "Are you sure I should be doing this?" she asked, her voice tinged with doubt.

Ezekiel responded with an enthusiastic thumbs-up, his confidence unwavering. "Trust me. You've got this!"

Bridgette sighed heavily, bracing herself as she glanced at the lyrics one more time. Taking a deep breath, she began singing.

(It's come to my attention That I don't show enough Of what I think It's only when I drink, I open up But I promise that I love you Even with... like shit (like shit))

(Cake)

I have never tolerated someone for so long I've never laughed so much I haven't written a sad song There's no one else I'd rather fall asleep with And dream with You're my best friend in the world

"Baduba bpfhhh ahhhh—sorry!" Bridgette sputtered, coughing awkwardly as she stumbled over the scat section of the song. She clutched her throat, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "This is… actually quite hard."

"Yep, it is," Ezekiel said, nodding with a knowing smile as he clapped for her effort. "Doing the scat part of the song can be tricky—it's all about letting go and feeling the rhythm. But, Bridgette, your voice is amazing. Seriously, it's perfect for Fionna's song in the audiobook."

Bridgette blinked, her embarrassment fading slightly as she processed his praise. Her lips curled into a sheepish smile. "You really think so?" she asked softly.

"Absolutely," Ezekiel said firmly, his grin radiating encouragement. "With a little practice, you'll nail it. And trust me, this song will really bring Fionna to life."

Bridgette chuckled lightly, shaking her head. "Alright, Zeke. If you believe in me that much, I'll give it another shot."

As the evening continued, Bridgette found herself more relaxed, her confidence growing with each attempt. Ezekiel, ever the supportive friend, offered tips and cheers, his enthusiasm infectious. He knew Bridgette was a very good singer on World Tour, and he wanted to make her develop better her options on what she could do in the future, many people likes a good singer, and she would get a good money from her fame if she sings well, and she would be perfect for voice act as Fionna, so it was a victory for Ezekiel.

One hour later seemed to have passed in a blink.

"Hey, guys, what are you all up to?" a voice called out, making Bridgette and Ezekiel blink in surprise. They turned to see Trent, Cody, Katie, and Harold approaching, while Lindsay, Izzy, and Heather could be seen further behind, making their way up the cliff as well.

"Hey!" Bridgette greeted, standing up from her seat. "I didn't know you all were here. What's going on?"

"Yeah," Ezekiel added, nodding toward the approaching group. "We were just chilling, singing some songs, and talking about the day. What's up?"

Trent offered a small nod of acknowledgment before glancing back at the others to ensure everyone was present. Tyler showed up moments later, having seemingly wandered back from the bathroom with absolutely no explanation as to how he'd found the top of the cliff. Everyone decided to just let it slide.

Once the entire team was gathered, Trent finally spoke, his expression earnest. "Alright, first of all, I want to thank you all for coming up here to listen. I know last season was rough for a lot of us… and I know I messed up badly. So, before anything else, I want to apologize again. I don't want any of the mistakes from the past messing up the dynamic of this team."

His tone was genuine, but the attempt to present himself as a leader didn't land quite as he'd hoped. The group exchanged unimpressed looks, and Tyler was the first to speak up.

"Okay, dude, we get that you're sorry, and we know you picked this team," Tyler said, crossing his arms. "But why are you acting like you're our leader?"

"I agree with the jock," Heather added, raising an eyebrow at Trent. "Everyone could tell last season that you were too ignorant to know when you weren't cut out to lead."

"Yeah," Lindsay chimed in, nodding along. "I already accepted your apology, but that doesn't mean I'd trust you again. Does that make sense?"

She glanced at Harold and Izzy, who both seemed to be considering her words.

"It could be a psychological reaction," Harold said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "You know, a response to prolonged stress from dealing with bad team dynamics last season."

"Or," Izzy interjected with a shrug, "he was just a huge jerk, so yeah, it makes sense."

Trent rolled his eyes but managed to keep his composure. "Okay, okay, I know I've been a bad person in the past," he admitted, his voice steady. "But what I'm trying to say is, we need to act as a team."

This, however, only earned him a collective crossing of arms from the group, as if they were all silently saying, Yeah, no kidding.

"I know we had a big win last episode," Trent continued, trying to clarify. "But we can't let it get to our heads. That's why I think we need a team leader."

"Are you serious?" Heather shot back, her tone dripping with exasperation as she crossed her arms tighter. "Didn't you see how that worked last season? The other team had, what, three 'leaders'? And as soon as they started losing, all of them got booted one by one. None of them even made it to the final three. And while I'm all for leading this team every day," she added with a smirk, "I know the moment something happens to me, you'd all be screwed."

"Love you too, Heather," Ezekiel quipped sarcastically, earning a chuckle from a few of the others. Standing up from the couch, he dusted himself off and turned to Trent with an even gaze. "Look, dude, I get it. You want us to work together as a team, and that's fine. But here's the thing—you've gotta remember this is a mix of Killer Bass and Screaming Gophers. Back on the Bass, we didn't just have one leader because Duncan and Courtney were constantly at each other's throats, fighting for the top spot. We ended up creating the 'pillars' system because the team voted me in as the neutral third person to help make decisions."

He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "Even now, without Duncan or Courtney, it's obvious that my friends from Killer Bass are gonna follow me. Not because I want to lead them, but because we've been through this before and they trust me."

"Yup," Harold said with a firm nod.

"Said it perfectly," Tyler agreed, leaning back slightly as he crossed his arms.

"I wouldn't choose anyone else," Katie added, flashing Ezekiel a bright smile.

"He's right," Bridgette concluded, her tone thoughtful as she glanced at Trent. "We know how to work together, but trying to force a single leader on this team? That's not gonna work."

Trent sighed heavily, disappointment flickering across his face.

"So… what do we do, then?" Cody hesitated, glancing between Trent and Katie. He wanted to support his friend, but going against his girlfriend's opinion? Not a chance. Staying quiet seemed like the safest option for now.

"Well, from my time watching the show—and now, actually participating in it—I've noticed some things that could help everyone understand how this reality show works." Ezekiel, ever the pragmatic one, offered a small, knowing smile. His calm confidence piqued the group's curiosity as they leaned in slightly, waiting to hear what he had to say. "I've created some personal rules for myself when it comes to dealing with Total Drama. Trust me, if you guys keep these in mind, you'll see that I was right all along."

"Pfft, it's not like—" Heather began, her tone sharp and dismissive. But before she could get any further, Ezekiel smoothly cut in, raising his hand slightly as if to tell her to hold that thought.

"Rule number one," Ezekiel started, his voice steady but firm, "never assume Chris is going to be merciful. Every challenge idea—no matter how absurd or dangerous—has the potential to harm us, traumatize us, or disgust us. That's his entire playbook." He paused for emphasis, scanning the group's faces. "Chris does all of this to entertain the audience. The more outrageous, the better. The only line he won't cross is actually killing us, because that would get him fired. And let's face it—Chris would never risk losing his cushy lifestyle."

The group exchanged wide-eyed glances at the blunt truth of Ezekiel's words. Lindsay's jaw dropped slightly, while Cody muttered, "Wow, he's really not sugarcoating it, huh?"

"But what about the interns?" Bridgette asked hesitantly. "He treats them worse than us sometimes."

"Exactly," Ezekiel replied, nodding. "Chris doesn't care about them. Some of the stuff he makes them do is borderline insane. And, honestly, if one of them… you know, didn't make it?" He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air. "He'd probably shrug it off as collateral damage."

The group collectively winced at the grim reality. Heather crossed her arms, her expression sour but contemplative. "That… actually makes sense," she admitted reluctantly.

"So, when you're wondering why Chris is doing something outrageous—hurting us, scaring us, grossing us out—the answer's simple: it's Chris. Accepting that he'll push the limits every single time will help us mentally prepare for whatever insane nonsense he throws our way."

Ezekiel paused, giving the group a moment to let his words sink in before continuing. "Rule number two," he said, his tone matter-of-fact, "you're going to vomit. Of course you will. It's practically a guarantee."

That statement elicited a chorus of reactions.

"Eww, gross," Lindsay mumbled, wrinkling her nose.

"Seriously?" Cody groaned, slumping in defeat.

"Makes sense, since last season we could count in a few hands how many times the campers vomited on the last season." Izzy, meanwhile, leaned forward with an amused grin. "I had suspicion we would be dealing with also on this season."

Ezekiel raised a hand to settle the murmurs and went on. "We've dealt with disgusting challenges in the past, and we'll deal with more in the future. It's the same every season. Trying to act brave and saying, 'I won't puke,' is a waste of time and effort. You're just setting yourself up for failure. So, instead of fighting it, accept it. Embrace the fact that it's going to happen. A day of humiliation is nothing compared to how much worse the challenges can get."

Harold nodded thoughtfully, adjusting his glasses. "He's got a point. If you take the fear of puking out of the equation, it's one less thing to stress about."

"Agreed," Bridgette added with a small smile, though her nose scrunched slightly at the idea. "It's gross, but it's not like anyone's gonna die from it."

Tyler chuckled nervously. "Unless Chris decides to toss in some crazy twist where puking actually becomes part of the competition…"

"Don't give him ideas," Heather snapped, glaring at Tyler.

"Rule number three," Ezekiel continued, his voice steady as he scanned the group, his pragmatic tone commanding their attention. "Having friends and being loyal to them is a must. This game is built on alliances and votes—it's the backbone of Total Drama. It's always best to stick with the people you trust. Even if they get eliminated, their support and advice can still make a difference for you. And if you know you're about to be voted out? Your best move is to find immunity. Simple as that. But if you can't, don't act shocked when you're chopped. It's kinda obvious how the game works."

The group exchanged nods of agreement. Bridgette leaned forward slightly, her expression thoughtful, while Harold muttered, "Makes sense. Alliances really are everything in a game like this."

Katie smiled faintly as she glanced at Cody, who gave her a reassuring nod. Meanwhile, Heather crossed her arms, looking skeptical but clearly considering the strategy behind Ezekiel's words.

"Rule number four," Ezekiel continued, his voice growing firmer, "betrayals and backstabbing usually lead to more people hating you—not just your friends, but also the fans watching at home. Remember, we're on television. How you act here matters. Be smart. People can see through fake behavior, and if you're too sneaky or ruthless, it's gonna cost you, both in the game and in the long run." He paused to let the point sink in, then added, "Winning isn't everything here, which leads me to rule number five."

"Wait, what do you mean?" Heather cut in, raising an eyebrow. "The whole point is to win, isn't it?"

"Winning helps, like you and Lindsay got in the finals of the last season, but you have to admit you got a lot of fans into the way you treated Lindsay and Beth, since they were your best friends, don't you dare to deny that." Ezekiel admitted, his lips curling into a small smile. Which made Heather slight glare, making him smile widely. "But that's not the only goal. Rule number five: we should use this show as a way to build fame for each of us. A positive reputation can make you relevant even after the season ends. Fans, opportunities, a whole life outside this show—that's what really matters. Look at me—I'm a book writer. Izzy's a CEO of a maple sap factory. We've both used our fame to carve out futures for ourselves. If you play it right, the show isn't just about the cash prize—it's about building something long-lasting."

Trent nodded enthusiastically, raising a hand like he was in class. "Yeah, I've been thinking about that too. Like, what happens after the show ends? Staying relevant sounds way better than just flaming out, right?"

"I guess," Lindsay said, tilting her head thoughtfully. "As long as I can still wear fabulous outfits and go to fun places, I'm in."

Ezekiel smiled warmly at their responses but raised his hands for their attention again. "Which brings me to rule number six—the most important one, at least to me. Be yourself, and have fun. We're on a reality show that's absolutely insane. We're experiencing things we'd never get to do in real life—things that make for the wildest stories we'll be telling our kids and grandkids someday. This is the kind of stuff that gets turned into memes on the internet, things people remember forever."

The group chuckled at that, even Heather couldn't stop a small smirk from creeping onto her face.

"So why not enjoy the chaos?" Ezekiel asked, his voice lighter now, almost playful. "Embrace the experience. Be ready for anything. Don't overthink every little thing, and don't let the madness get to you. Because if you follow these rules, I genuinely think it's the best way to keep your sanity while surviving this season."

The group was quiet for a moment, each of them absorbing Ezekiel's words in their own way. Bridgette smiled softly, leaning her chin on her hand. Tyler and Harold exchanged nods, while Cody gave Katie a supportive squeeze on the shoulder. Izzy, naturally, grinned like a maniac, clearly ready to embrace every ounce of chaos Ezekiel had mentioned. Even Heather, ever the skeptic, looked like she was grudgingly impressed.

"Well," Bridgette finally said, breaking the silence, "you've definitely given us something to think about, Zeke. I gotta admit, these rules make a lot of sense."

"Well, it kinda makes sense, so all we have to do is just go with the flow?" Cody said as he earned a nod from the homeschooled boy.

"Yep. And since we have the equipment for recording movie scenes, and 2 movie sets just for us here. Why not have some fun?" Ezekiel said as he look at his team, since some looked at him with his eyebrow raised. "You never know how many MVPA points you can get with this, and who doesn't want to act like an actor and actress for a while?"

"..."

"Fair enought," Tyler commented.

"He got me there." Harold said at the same time.

"Yeah he made a point." Cody said..

And one by on everyone agreed with the boy, as it would take a while for them to have the right equipment to start playing with the camera and sound, for the sake of making their own movie scenes for release on the forums to get more points for themselves.

---

On the cliff of the movie studios reserved for the Killer Grips' reward, the contestants were making full use of their victory. With access to the movie sets, trailers, and high-end equipment, the group had decided to get creative and have some fun by filming skits and videos.

The scene in question featured Cody, who was looking decidedly nervous as he stood in front of Ezekiel, who was grinning ear to ear. Harold adjusted the lights, ensuring everything was perfect, while Trent leaned against a nearby prop, watching the unfolding chaos with mild amusement. Bridgette stood off to the side, arms crossed, looking equal parts confused and curious.

Meanwhile, Lindsay and Izzy were immersed in their own animated conversation, giggling away. Heather, seated in front of a vanity mirror inside one of the trailers, applied her makeup with meticulous precision, tuning out the surrounding chaos.

"Ezekiel, I don't know if this is really something we should be doing," Cody said, his voice tinged with uncertainty. He gestured awkwardly at the script in his hand, which seemed far longer than necessary for the scene. "I mean, do I really have to say this line and just… wait for, like, 10 or 20 seconds of silence before continuing? It feels kinda boring."

"You're not wrong," Harold added from his spot by the lighting equipment. "Pacing's everything, Zeke. A long pause could throw off the flow."

Katie, who was sitting nearby, fidgeted nervously with her script. "I'm not sure if this is gonna work, either. I mean, I think I can remember all my lines, but…" She glanced up, biting her lip. "I kind of agree with Cody. This feels a little slow compared to the comedy romances I usually watch."

"Ah, but that's the thing, guys," Ezekiel said, his tone brimming with enthusiasm as he gestured animatedly. "I promise, this scene will look fantastic. I'm giving you the hardest part first—once we nail this, the rest will be a breeze. Trust me. Have I ever made you do something humiliating just to mess with you?"

Cody raised a finger, ready to object, but Ezekiel cut him off with a smirk. "You don't count, Cody. We had to put the fear of God into you after your… uh, freaky perv phase last season."

"It's true," Katie said with a giggle, earning a pout from her boyfriend. She smiled warmly at Ezekiel, though her nervousness lingered. "Okay, Zeke, I believe in you. But are you sure we really need these MVPA points?"

"Well, you never know when you'll need them," Harold chimed in, adjusting the lighting equipment. "The rewards can be crazy good. From what Ezekiel told me, his reward was too good to pass up. So yeah, I'm using every chance I get to rack up points. And this is one of the few ways we can earn them—we're only allowed to produce three videos per after-challenge."

Bridgette glanced at the script in her hands, then at Ezekiel, who nodded encouragingly. "It's not just about the points, though," Ezekiel added, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "This is an opportunity. We're in a movie studio, guys! We can create anything we want—funny, dramatic, whatever. We can publish it online, use our imaginations, and make something awesome."

Trent walked over, carrying extra microphones and chimed in with a grin. "He's right. Sure, this set might be kinda crappy, but it's still a reward. The Gaffers don't have this chance, so we've gotta make the most of it. If we gather enough points before the merge, we can use them to push ourselves to the finals. And even if we end up competing against each other, this is our shot to clear our names, gain some fame, and maybe even get noticed for real movie gigs."

Tyler nodded enthusiastically, giving Trent a thumbs-up. Harold and Lindsay's eyes sparkled with excitement as the possibilities sank in.

"Ohhh, I really want to make a martial arts movie!" Harold exclaimed, his voice brimming with energy. "I could show off my mad skills—maybe even get noticed as a stuntman or actor for one of those big martial arts blockbusters."

"And if I become a movie star," Lindsay added, her voice dreamy, "I could wear all the expensive dresses and walk the red carpet. Ooh, maybe I'd even make a dress out of red carpet and walk the red carpet in it!"

Tyler wrapped an arm around her shoulders, grinning. "You'd look amazing in anything," he said, planting a kiss on her cheek. Lindsay beamed, while Izzy and Heather exchanged eye-rolls.

"Being a movie actress isn't all glitz and glam, Lindsay. There's a lot of training, crazy diets, and long hours. It's not as easy as it looks." Izzy leaning forward with her true self-seriousness, decided to tell the truth of the process.

"And with your difficulty reading, memorizing scripts would be a nightmare. Maybe acting isn't the best fit for you." Heather, ever the realist, added, Her tone was gentle, but Lindsay's smile faltered slightly.

"Okay," Lindsay said softly, her disappointment evident. But before the mood could dip further, she perked up, her gaze shifting to Katie, who was still fidgeting nervously. "Hey, maybe we could make her wear lingerie for the scene?"

"What?!" Katie and Cody exclaimed in unison, their faces turning bright red. The suggestion hung in the air for a moment as the group exchanged glances.

"Well… it would fit the tone," Trent commented thoughtfully, scratching his chin. Ezekiel nodded in agreement, his expression serious.

"No, no, no!" Cody and Katie protested again, their voices rising in perfect harmony. But it was too late—the decision had been made.

And so, they acted out the scene… much to Cody and Katie's embarrassment.

.

.

.

"And done! One minute and twenty seconds—it's perfect," Ezekiel announced triumphantly, leaning back with a satisfied grin. The rest of the Killer Grips collectively exhaled, watching Cody and Katie finally stagger out of their mortified daze. It had taken them over an hour to stop blushing long enough to deliver their lines, and while the process had been painstaking, it had also been wildly entertaining for everyone else.

What started as frustration quickly turned into a group effort of increasingly bizarre attempts to help the duo focus. From over-the-top pep talks to impromptu impressions and even Tyler donning a fake mustache to "coach" them, the chaos was both a headache and a source of hilarity. By the time Cody and Katie managed to act their parts without combusting from embarrassment, the entire team was exhausted—but undeniably amused.

"Thank God it's over," Katie groaned, tugging at her costume with a mix of panic, exasperation, and relief. She glanced at Ezekiel, her expression one of pure betrayal. "Can I please take this off now? And while we're at it, explain to me why this boring scene was so necessary. I don't see the joke anywhere."

"Yeah, seriously," Cody chimed in, still red-faced and clearly frustrated. "It's not funny to make us feel like this. What's the point, Zeke?"

Ezekiel, unfazed by their indignation, raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, guys. I'm telling you, the magic is about to happen." He reached into his stack of papers and handed each of them another page of the script. "Here. This part doesn't need to be recorded on camera. You'll just say it into the microphone while you act. No cameras—just your voices bringing the scene to life."

Cody and Katie exchanged wary glances as they took the pages. Slowly, they began reading the new lines. At first, they were silent, their expressions blank. But then their lips began to twitch.

Katie pressed her mouth into a thin line, clearly fighting a losing battle, while Cody's shoulders began to shake as he tried to suppress a snort. Their efforts to remain composed only made the ridiculousness of the dialogue hit harder.

By the third line, Cody let out a wheeze, covering his face with the script, while Katie stifled a laugh that came out as an awkward hiccup.

"This is… ridiculous," Cody choked out, barely able to speak through his laughter.

"It's… it's genius," Katie admitted reluctantly, tears of mirth starting to pool in her eyes as she clutched her script. "It's so stupid, but it works."

The rest of the Killer Grips, curious and eager to know what was so funny, crowded around. While Cody and Katie struggled to continue reading, the rest of the group burst into laughter as they finally got a glimpse of the absurdly comedic payoff Ezekiel had crafted.

"Now you see," Ezekiel said, his smug grin returning in full force. "The scene isn't about what you acted earlier—it's about the setup. Your voices add the punchline. Without the cameras rolling, you're free to go all out and make it as over-the-top as possible."

Katie, still catching her breath, gave Ezekiel a begrudging look. "Okay, I'll admit it… this is pretty funny. But it's still cruel."

"And genius," Cody added, shaking his head but grinning. "You're lucky we weren't on camera for this, though. We'd be here all day laughing too hard to even get a single take."

Ezekiel just chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Hey, what can I say? Comedy is all about the unexpected."

At least everyone was ready to enjoy their night, and see the fruits of their fun in the future. Not knowing the outcomes of such funny scene created by them.

---

During the morning on Ottawa… Senor Abravanel could easily say his trip to Canada had been amusing. There was nothing better than starting the day with a warm cup of coffee with milk, alongside a hearty breakfast of steak and bread. Normally, his business trips or vacations took him across the United States to study new show formats and reality programs—always seeking inspiration to craft something fresh for his channel. But this time was different. This trip was about family. With his daughters all grown and his wife enjoying her golden years, Senor decided to focus on them. He didn't mind taking a break from work; in fact, he relished the precious moments spent laughing and relaxing together. After all, as he often said, "You leave this world without taking anything with you, so make the most of it while you can."

Though his heart remained tied to his home country and the beloved Sunday show he hosted, Senor felt content. He'd worked hard, and a week in Canada seemed a fitting reward—a rare chance for him and his family to enjoy a change of scenery.

Of course, even abroad, he could never escape recognition. Wherever he went, fans greeted him with smiles and requests for autographs. But he didn't mind; in fact, he loved it. A warm laugh, a quick joke, a friendly wave—these simple gestures connected him to the hearts of his admirers. It was this authenticity that endeared him to so many. He loved life, and more importantly, he loved being true to himself.

On a peaceful morning in Ottawa, one of the few places he could indulge in steak and bread for breakfast, everything seemed perfect. The air was crisp, the streets were calm, and his family chatted cheerfully at the table beside him. That is, until a frustrated groan pierced the tranquility.

"UGH, this is useless!" The sound made him glance over his shoulder. At a nearby table, two teenagers sat amidst a chaotic mess of crumpled and torn papers. One was a boy in a black leather jacket, his green hair spiked in a punk style. Beside him sat a tan girl with brown hair, dressed in a gray sweater. Both looked visibly exasperated.

"I know people would love to learn the secrets of the remaining contestants," the boy said, his tone dripping with irritation. "But let's face it—our friends are part of that group. And I really don't want to pressure them into saying something they'll regret."

"The point is, they don't care if they get hurt, princess. The audience wants drama, and they want it to unfold on camera. I bet we could make them spill easily." Duncan crossed his arms, a sly smirk curling on his lips. The girl rolled her eyes in response, clearly unimpressed.

"We can't have a boring show, sure," Courtney admitted. "But we also can't blindly follow the producer's suggestions. I don't trust them. If we go down that path, we could end up regretting it."

"That's what I'm saying! I want to create something responsible —a good interview. Something where we ask meaningful questions about their thoughts and feelings, but still keep it light and fun." She tapped her finger on the table, deep in thought, her pen momentarily pressed to her lips. Duncan, however, scoffed at her idea.

"Hey, I do know how to be fun!" she shot back defensively, narrowing her eyes.

"Pff... sure you do, princess." His smirk widened, but it quickly disappeared as she stomped on his foot. He yelped.

Courtney stuck out her tongue, a small but defiant gesture, as she and Duncan stared at their brainstorming disaster. No matter how many ideas they pitched, trying to merge their opposing visions of "fun," nothing seemed to click. Duncan's notions of entertaining the audience leaned towards risky and chaotic stunts that would likely scare off parents, and even with Courtney's careful, responsible touch, his concepts felt like ticking time bombs. Courtney could already foresee the inevitable headaches she'd endure if she tried to rein him in.

Duncan wasn't spared from frustration either. To him, Courtney's ideas bordered on dull—a talk-show style program focused on heart-to-heart interviews about contestants' lives, dreams, or even their lunch habits. Sure, he didn't object to interviewing the cast; that was the point of the Aftermath show. But most of them were nobodies, barely aware of their own fleeting fame. How was that supposed to hold an audience's attention? Worst of all, Courtney wanted to plan everything out to the letter, with a rigid itinerary. In Duncan's eyes, that sounded like torture—not just for him, but for anyone watching.

Their personalities clashed like fire and ice, and while they recognized the strengths in each other's ideas, neither could see a way to balance them enough to captivate the Total Drama audience. Time was ticking. Their debut was only a week or two away, and the pressure to deliver something spectacular weighed heavily on them both.

"Excuse me for a moment," a voice interrupted, cutting through their mutual exasperation. The couple paused, turning their heads to see the source. A gentleman—perhaps in his late seventies—with neatly combed brown hair sat down at a nearby chair. He was dressed in a dark-blue suit, his red-and-black striped tie impeccably placed. His demeanor was calm, though his eyes held a twinkle of amusement as he surveyed them.

"I apologize if I'm intruding," he began with a polite smile. "But I would kindly ask you both to lower your voices. You may not realize it, but you're disturbing the other patrons of this establishment."

Duncan and Courtney exchanged glances, unsure whether to feel embarrassed or annoyed. The man's tone was courteous, but his uninvited remark left them momentarily speechless.

As the man stood to leave, he adjusted his tie with a meticulous touch, brushing a speck of dust off his dark-blue suit. His movements carried the ease of someone who had lived a life well-acquainted with attention to detail. Just as he turned to go, his gaze lingered on the mess of crumpled papers littering the teenagers' table. A single sheet, partially flattened, caught his eye.

Curiosity sparked, he leaned closer, his fingers smoothing the page with a practiced hand. The corners of his mouth tugged into a faint smile as he scanned the notes—disorganized thoughts, half-formed ideas, and hasty sketches that betrayed hours of brainstorming.

"Hm," the man murmured, his eyebrows lifting ever so slightly. Folding the page neatly, he placed it back on the table and straightened up. Duncan and Courtney watched, expecting him to move on. Instead, to their surprise, he chuckled—a warm, hearty laugh that resonated through the quiet café.

"Hi hi hi he he he," he laughed, the sound rolling effortlessly into a contagious rhythm. It was the kind of laugh that could light up a room, and for a moment, even Duncan found himself smirking involuntarily.

Courtney, however, was less amused. She furrowed her brows, crossing her arms with visible irritation. "What's so funny?" she demanded, her voice sharper than she intended.

Duncan leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. "Yeah, what's the joke, old man?" he teased, though there was more curiosity than malice in his tone.

Still chuckling, the gentleman turned back to face them, his expression rich with amusement and wisdom. His eyes twinkled as he gestured toward the papers. "Oh, forgive me," he began, his voice calm yet warm. "I couldn't help but notice what you're struggling with—creating a television show, am I right?"

Courtney stiffened, sitting up straighter in her chair. "And? What about it?"

"Well," he said, his tone softening with nostalgia, "it's just... your dilemma brought back memories. Sixty years in television has taught me that the first show, the first concept—it's always the hardest. You're clashing ideas, trying to find balance, hoping to please everyone while staying true to yourselves. It's not easy. But let me tell you, that's what makes it worth doing."

"Wait. Sixty years?" Duncan raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Are you serious?"

The man laughed lightly, brushing the question aside with a wave of his hand. "I know I look young—thank you for noticing—but yes, I'm quite serious." His smile grew, and for a moment, his voice carried the weight of countless memories. "The creative process is like this: messy, frustrating, sometimes maddening. But those challenges? They shape the outcome. Some of my fondest memories come from moments just like this—when nothing seemed to work, yet, somehow, it all came together in the end."

Courtney tilted her head, slightly intrigued despite herself. "You mean... you've been through something like this before?"

"Not exactly," the man admitted, his eyes gleaming with candor, "but close enough. In my early days, I traveled across the United States, studying the most unique shows, taking notes on what worked and what didn't. I'd bring those ideas back to my team, asking them to re-imagine and improve upon them. Some experiments succeeded beautifully; others, I had to abandon entirely. Creation is never a straight path—it's full of twists and turns."

He paused, letting the thought linger before continuing. "But here's what I've learned: television, at its core, is about connection and joy. That's the heart of it. When you focus on that, the rest falls into place."

His laughter returned, brighter this time, lighting up the room. "Everything I do on the television, I do it because it makes me happy, and when something doesn't make me happy, including hosting shows, even if they have great audiences, I stop making it, because the host in my opinion, he sells his happiness, he sells his soul, transmit what he or she was feeling on that moment, and at the moment I stop feeling, then I don't transmit, and if I don't transmit, then I just stop. Until I had the feeling to do it again, and then there was times I don't have the desire to do it ever again. But that's okay—it's all part of the process."

He leaned in slightly, his gaze shifting between Duncan and Courtney. "as long as you dedicate at your work, you with perseverance, you can learn everything you desires, it can take a long time, or less time, but the dedication, to something you like to do, it takes you to the victory, the victory is subjective, however, as long it satisfies you, being a personal victory, it's already a great victory. Do what you both like, if you don't like journalism, then don't do it, if you likes to do comedy, painting, sports, doing what we like, it's the greatest reward we get."

Duncan blinked, his smirk fading into something closer to thoughtfulness. Courtney stared at the man, her arms uncrossing as his words sank in. For once, she didn't have a rebuttal.

With a polite nod, the man straightened his tie one last time. "I wish you both the best of luck. Perhaps one day, I'll tune in to see what you've created."

Before he could take another step, both Courtney and Duncan stood abruptly, nearly knocking over their chairs in the process.

"Err… please, could you help us?" Courtney's words came out rushed and hesitant, a stark contrast to her usual confident demeanor. Pride was something she rarely compromised on, but the man's charisma and wisdom had struck a chord. For once, she saw an opportunity to learn from a professional, and she wasn't about to let it pass.

The gentleman paused, his hand lingering on the back of his chair. He regarded her with a warm, knowing smile, as if he could sense her inner conflict.

"Well…" he began, glancing at his table, "I think I might have some extra time. Let me bring my plates over, and I'll see if I can offer a few suggestions." His voice was kind, yet carried the unmistakable confidence of someone who had guided countless others before.

Duncan, hands still stuffed in his jacket pockets, tilted his head and smirked. "I'm more curious… how'd you even get that far in television? Sixty years—that's no joke," he said, his tone half-challenging, half-genuine. He leaned against the table, clearly intrigued despite himself.

The man chuckled softly as he returned to the teenagers' table, placing his plates down with practiced care. His movements were deliberate yet unhurried, as though he carried the weight of countless stories within him. "Well," he began, looking at Duncan with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, "charisma is everything. From a young age, I learned how to engage people, to make them interested in what I was doing. That's how I was able to sell pens door to door."

The statement landed like a thunderbolt. Duncan and Courtney's eyes widened in unison, their surprise impossible to hide.

"Wait, you sold pens?" Courtney asked, her voice laced with incredulity. Her eyebrows shot up, as though the thought of someone so polished and accomplished starting out as a street vendor was hard to reconcile.

"Indeed," the man replied, his smile unwavering, his voice steady with the confidence of someone who had lived through it all. "During my childhood, I worked as a street vendor. And let me tell you, selling pens is no small feat. It taught me the art of connection. You see, it's not just the pen you're selling—it's the idea of the pen, the possibilities it holds. Whether it's a product, a story, a radio broadcast, or even a television show, the secret lies in making people feel invested, in showing them why it matters. That lesson has stayed with me throughout my entire career."

Duncan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and letting out an impressed whistle. "Not gonna lie, that's... kinda cool. Never thought I'd hear someone compare selling pens to running a TV empire."

The man chuckled again, a warm, genuine sound that seemed to fill the room. "It all comes down to life experiences," he continued, his gaze distant as though he were peering into his past. "From a street vendor to a radio announcer, and then to television—each step taught me something new. I spent 25 years doing live television with an auditorium audience, back when television in my country was mostly focused on news and politics. Entertainment, back then, was limited to soccer on Sundays and my show. My program ran from eight in the morning until eleven at night, and later, when my channel was bought out, I worked from noon until eight in the evening. It wasn't easy, but it was worth every moment."

Duncan and Courtney sat riveted, hanging on his every word. His story was captivating, each detail offering a glimpse into a world they could scarcely imagine.

"And if I could go back to the past," the man said, his voice softening with a touch of nostalgia, "I would do it all over again. Perhaps with some slight changes to the presentation, but still following the same formula. Life has a funny way of teaching us the most valuable lessons in the simplest of ways. You'd be surprised how often those early experiences shaped the decisions I made decades later."

His words hung in the air, resonating deeply with his young audience. Duncan glanced at Courtney, whose notebook lay open in front of her, her pen poised as though ready to capture every piece of wisdom the man offered. Even Duncan, who was usually quick to brush off moments like this, found himself surprisingly moved.

The man leaned back slightly, his hands resting lightly on the edge of the table. "Television, like life, is all about connection," he added thoughtfully. "When you find the heart of it—the joy, the passion, the reason behind it all—that's when everything else falls into place."

Courtney's lips pressed into a thin line as she absorbed his words, her notebook lying open on the table. For someone as detail-oriented as her, the notion of selling an idea—of creating connection—resonated deeply. Maybe this was the perspective they'd been missing all along.

The gentleman settled into the chair he had vacated just moments ago, folding his hands neatly on the table. "So," he said, his gaze shifting between the two, "shall we get started? Show me what you've got so far."

.

.

.

"You did your own version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire ?" Duncan asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and awe as his wide eyes locked onto the man. The famous host chuckled softly, his amusement contagious.

"Ah, the classic Show do Milhão ," the man replied with a nostalgic smile. "Everyone in my country tuned in at 11 p.m. on Sundays just to watch it. Such good memories. Maybe I could ask one of my producers to bring you both a few VHS tapes or DVDs of my old shows. I've always been grateful for the inspiration I've drawn from the United States and other countries. Passing that on to the next generation feels like the right thing to do."

"Dude, you are my hero," Duncan said earnestly, his admiration shining through. His dad had always been a huge fan of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire , and now, sitting across from someone who had created its iconic Brazilian adaptation? Duncan couldn't believe his luck.

The host chuckled warmly at Duncan's enthusiasm before turning his gaze to both teenagers. "I'm sure you both have a promising future ahead of you," he said thoughtfully. "You've already taken your first steps into fame through the reality show you participated in."

Courtney and Duncan exchanged a glance at the mention of Total Drama . Courtney's expression tightened, her brow furrowing slightly.

"I really wouldn't recommend trying anything like Total Drama again," she said almost pleadingly. "It put us through dangerous situations. While we made good friends, it's not something I'd wish on anyone else—or other countries, for that matter."

The man chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You don't have to worry about that," he reassured her. "When it comes to reality shows involving groups of people, I've had my fair share of challenges. There were even some lawsuits over shows I produced. The money wasn't the issue—it was the headaches that came with it. But between us…" He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering conspiratorially, " A Casa dos Artistas broke audience records. Instead of featuring random strangers in a house, I used famous people. That show became legendary, even though a rival reality show ended up with more sequels. If you ask anyone in my country which show they remember most, A Casa dos Artistas will always be the answer."

Duncan let out a laugh, clearly impressed by the man's audacity. It was impossible not to admire someone who could not only break records but also confidently pave his own path, earning the title of "King of Brazilian Television." The man had a charisma that even Duncan, the self-proclaimed bad boy, respected deeply.

"Also another personal advice: if you are going to work with a live audience, you better bring ear protections in case everyone gets cheerfully loud; years dealing with that can make you slightly deaf with the time, and it gets harder to listen after months or years working with them, so you better prepare to bring ear protection for you both not get deaf, okay?" Senor commented, as it clearly made both Duncan and Courtney shocked with the advice, and they nodded their heads at him as Courtney continued to write down.

Meanwhile, Courtney sat quietly, her mind racing. As the man spoke, she pieced together fragments of his wisdom with her own ideas. His former shows, though old, carried timeless qualities that could resonate with modern audiences. Combining those concepts with their own brainstorming, she felt a spark of hope ignite.

"I think we've got it." Courtney said suddenly, her voice tinged with excitement. She looked at Duncan, her eyes bright. "I really think we've found a direction."

"Did we get it?" Duncan asked, leaning forward as he watched her scribble notes. He took a closer look at the paper she handed him and nodded in agreement. "Okay, yeah. This one looks good."

"Well then, oh dear, it seems we've spent so much time working on this that I've completely lost track of the hour," the man said with a warm laugh, glancing at his watch. "I promised to pick up my daughters from the mall in Toronto. I really must be going now."

He stood and gathered his things, pausing to give the duo one last look. "Thank you for sharing your parents' and lawyer's contact information. I'll see to it that my producers send over the recordings of my shows in a week or two. I think they'll help point you both in the right direction."

"That would be incredibly helpful," Courtney said, her tone earnest as she offered the man a kind smile.

"Before I go, I need to tell you one last thing. The TV's Camera can transform men into angels and girls into Saints, but you all see with the vanity, the pride, the desire of self-accomplishment, can make a person progress or regress... When I lost my first wife because of cancer and when I was widowed and said I was single and I hid my daughters, just for the sake of being the hero, the idol, I talk to my conscience many times since when I grew up. That was the worst mistake I ever made in my life. It was one unforgivable thing in front of my immaturity when I came to maturity today. And when I recall all my mistakes I made, when I see someone younger than me doing the same thing. I look, and I tell myself, Oh Lord, what an unhappy person... And I can see you both are going to be wonderful together if you trust each other and be this wonderful couple as I'm seeing now." The man continued as he could see the bad boy and the girl who was the responsible one, and from the stories they had told him, he could understand they would go far if they worked together. "I hope to hear great things from both of you, and if you ever find yourselves visiting Brazil, I'd love to welcome you onto my show as guests. Perhaps we could play a game or two, just for fun."

He placed enough money on the table to cover the bill, nodding politely.

"This should cover breakfast and lunch. I wish you the best of luck."

With a final wave and his signature warm smile, the man left the café, his presence lingering long after he had gone.

"Wow, I never thought we'd get free food," Duncan remarked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, clearly impressed. "I mean, I didn't even know who he was, and he still paid for everything. But hey, free food is free food."

Courtney rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "It depends on the person," she mused, her voice thoughtful. "It's funny, though—he's so different from Chris. Like, completely opposite. He's wise, charismatic, and actually cares about what he does." She paused, her gaze drifting to the notes she'd been scribbling. "I feel like I just got a masterclass in life and work. It's rare to meet someone who's not only experienced but also willing to share their wisdom."

Her thoughts wandered as she tapped her pen against the table. She respected her mom deeply—so much so that she once dreamed of becoming a lawyer to follow in her footsteps. But now, after meeting someone so passionate about his craft, someone who clearly loved what he did, Courtney couldn't help but reflect. "He said it's important to work on what you love. Is that why Ezekiel has so much fun writing and drawing his books?"

Duncan tilted his head, considering her words. "That's a good point. I mean, the farm boy spends hours typing away or sketching, and he's still got energy to run around pretending to sword fight with a stick. It's kinda childish, but now that I think about it… when was the last time we just let loose and used our imagination like that? Like, really had fun?"

Before Courtney could respond, the waitress appeared, balancing a cup of coffee with milk. She blinked at the duo, her expression puzzled. "Hey, did anyone see Silvio Santos? I was just bringing his coffee."

Courtney and Duncan exchanged a glance before Courtney spoke up. "You mean the man who was sitting with us? That's his artistic name, right?" She looked to Duncan for confirmation, and he nodded.

"Well, he had to leave," Courtney continued. "He mentioned picking up his wife and kids from the mall in Toronto."

The waitress sighed dreamily, clutching the coffee cup to her chest. "Oh, crap. I wanted to ask for his autograph. My family's never going to believe I served Silvio Santos his meal." She shook her head wistfully before her gaze shifted back to the duo. "Wait a second… don't I know you two from somewhere?"

" Total Drama Island, " Duncan and Courtney said in unison, their voices flat but synchronized.

The waitress blinked a few times before her mouth fell open in recognition. "Ohhhhh, that's right! Wow, three celebrities in one day? I should tell the boss we need a wall of fame or something." She glanced at the table, noticing the bill and the money left behind. "I'll take care of this. And you know what? I'll prepare something special for you both as a courtesy."

"You don't have to do that," Courtney said quickly, her tone polite but surprised.

"Oh, trust me, I want to," the waitress replied with a laugh. "In exchange, though, I just have one question: what did the King of Brazilian television and host of the most iconic Sunday night shows talk to you about?" Her grin was mischievous, like a cat that had just cornered a mouse.

Duncan and Courtney exchanged a look, both unsure how to respond.

"Was he really that big of a deal in Brazil?" Duncan asked, his voice tinged with genuine surprise. He turned to Courtney, who looked just as confused as he did.

---

Meanwhile, in a quiet corner of another city, Ezekiel sat hunched over his laptop, typing furiously. Suddenly, he froze, his fingers hovering above the keys. A strange sensation prickled at the back of his mind, like an invisible force tugging at his thoughts. He turned his head slightly, frowning.

"Why do I have this sudden urge to punch Duncan in the face and knee him in the nuts?" Ezekiel muttered to himself, his voice low and bewildered. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake off the inexplicable feeling. "I don't even know what he said, but I know it was disrespectful. It's like my soul is offended."

He sighed, shaking his head as he turned back to his laptop. "Never mind. Let me focus on this." But the irritation lingered, a faint but persistent itch at the edge of his thoughts.

A few minutes later, Noah, who was walking nearby, froze in his tracks as he caught sight of Ezekiel furiously typing away at his laptop. The speed at which Ezekiel's fingers flew across the keyboard was almost unnerving—it was as if the keys were barely keeping up with him.

"What the…" Noah muttered, his tone tinged with disbelief. Curiosity piqued, the bookworm strolled over, leaning casually behind Ezekiel to peer at the laptop screen. His eyebrows shot up as he scanned a few words and sentences from the blizzard of text pouring onto the screen.

"BMO?" Noah asked, his voice laden with skepticism. "Didn't you say you weren't going to write another Adventure Time book?"

"Yeah, I said that," Ezekiel nodded, his focus razor-sharp as his fingers continued to hammer the keyboard with almost reckless abandon. His green hat was slightly askew as he leaned in closer to the screen, eyes alive with creative intensity. "But then I got this amazing idea, and I couldn't resist. I haven't finished yet, but this chapter? Total masterpiece. Easily my favorite."

Noah, ever the skeptic, leaned in reluctantly, curiosity outweighing his usual indifference. "Alright, let's see what we're dealing with here," he said, squinting at the flashing words on the screen. "So, you've got BMO as the lead. Makes sense, I guess. But then you decided to toss in a cat, a mouse, a TV controller, Neptr, and a chicken? And—because why not—you're writing it like some kind of noir detective novel?"

Ezekiel froze dramatically, swiveling toward Noah with an enormous grin that threatened to split his face in two. He raised his hands as if presenting a priceless treasure. "The chapter is called… BMO Noire! " His voice was heavy with pride and dramatic flair. "It's BMO's breakout moment as the ultimate noir detective. Shadowy alleys, tangled motives, deadly culprits—this story has everything. "

Noah's eyebrow climbed so high it practically hit orbit. "Riiight. Because nothing screams 'masterpiece' like a noir thriller about BMO tracking down… what exactly? The Ice King's crown? Some ancient artifact? Oh wait, don't tell me, it's Tree Trunks Cristal Apple."

"Close, but no," Ezekiel said, his grin widening even further. "It's Finn's sock."

Noah stared at him. "The plot revolves around a sock? A literal, regular sock?"

"Yes," Ezekiel said without a shred of irony. "It's the only sock Finn had. But what you don't get—" he gestured vaguely at the laptop, as though the sheer brilliance of his work should be self-evident "—is that the story isn't about the sock. It's about the heist. The sock was just the tool."

Noah blinked. "Uh-huh. Please enlighten me, genius. What kind of sock-based heist are we talking about?"

Ezekiel leaned back, smirking, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone. "You see, Loraine the Chicken—the mastermind of this whole ordeal—used Finn's sock to smuggle treasure out of the Tree House. She plotted an elaborate scheme, roped in her lovers, Pepe the TV Controller and Ronnie the Rat, as accomplices, and used the sock to collect and carry gold. But here's the kicker—Pepe and Ronnie both ended up dead. Loraine betrayed them and ran off with the treasure."

Noah's face transitioned from disbelief to something bordering on reluctant interest. "Huh. Murderous chicken, sock smuggler… Okay, I'll admit, that's slightly more interesting."

"Hold on, I'm not done." Ezekiel's tone grew even more animated, his fingers poised over the keyboard like a pianist about to strike the keys. "The real intrigue? Loraine's no ordinary criminal. She's a femme fatale. She leaves BMO a message—one last promise—saying she'll return someday to be with him. It's a classic noir romance: the detective and the criminal mistress, caught on opposite sides of the law."

Noah groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "So, what you're saying is, BMO falls in love with a chicken."

"It's way more than that, I'm actually writing down they actually had a story together, creating a mystery of people interested to know where both met, and how it developed their romance on that way." Ezekiel explained as he could see the bookworm having a headache. "Who knows if this book would make fans to have spin off? For me this will be in my top 3 favorite chapters so far."

"Right. So BMO as detective in a romance with a criminal chicken." Noah crossed his arms as he looked at Ezekiel who rolled his eyes.

"Can we just call her Loraine? She's not just a chicken," Ezekiel shot back, his tone almost offended. Since a character like that would be so iconic from that episode, she must be treated as such. "It's Loraine. She's mysterious. Dangerous. Beautiful in her own… poultry-like way. She's like Irene Adler version of BMO being Sherlock Holmes."

Before Noah could fire off a witty comeback, a bubbly voice broke through their banter.

"Oh oh oh, I love Sherlock Holmes!" The two boys blinked in unison, turning to see Lindsay bounding toward them, her excitement practically radiating from her. "What case are you two talking about?"

Ezekiel straightened in his seat, his hands lifting off the keyboard for the first time in minutes. "Actually, we're not talking about him. We're talking about a detective noir chapter in my book," he explained, his tone proud but patient. "It's something I plan to publish in the future."

Lindsay's eyes widened with delight as she plopped down nearby.

"That's so cool! I love detectives and mysteries. Sadly, though…" Her expression faltered as she cast her gaze downward. "…I'm terrible at reading books. I have to wait for my dad to read them to me."

Ezekiel's confident demeanor softened instantly, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. Noah, though often quick with sarcastic jabs, found himself hesitating. Even he wouldn't mock something like that.

"Dyslexia sucks," Noah admitted after a moment, his tone unusually sincere. "I would lose my mind if I couldn't read my books. Like, totally lose it." He paused, glancing at Lindsay with something resembling genuine respect. "But hey, being a bad reader doesn't make you dumb. I mean… you're smart in your own way. And considering you won last season? Yeah, I'd say you're doing just fine."

This surprised both Ezekiel and Lindsay, since it was the first time Noah showed indeed a true compliment, while the bookworm simply rolled his eyes.

He can say as much he wanted to give sarcastic remarks to stupid people, insulting someone for having difficulty reading because of dyslexia? It was something he didn't wish for his enemies; if a person is dumb, is dumb, but if they had dyslexia and because of that couldn't read? It would be too far, and he knew how Lindsay is smart on her own way, since she was the winner of the last season of Total Drama. And from how she destroyed the franchise of Indiana Jones, the fandom will never be the same after her telling the plot hole of The Lost Arc. And that was something he will forever respect the blonde, destroying a franchise for being a smartass? It deserves respect from the bookworm, because books always beat the movies.

Lindsay brightened slightly, though her smile carried a hint of embarrassment. "Thanks," she said softly.

Ezekiel, however, wasn't ready to let the conversation end on such a subdued note. "You know," he began, his eyes lighting up with a fresh idea, "I could do a live reading for you. Just over this chapter, so you can hear the whole thing as it plays out. Plus, Noah can help point out any grammar mistakes while we go. What do you think?"

Lindsay's eyes widened again, her excitement bubbling up once more. "Oh, wow, that would be amazing! I'd love that!" She clapped her hands together, her enthusiasm infectious. "I can't wait to hear the whole thing!"

Noah smirked faintly, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. "This is turning into quite the production. But, hey, if it helps you churn out something halfway decent, I'm in."

Ezekiel grinned, his hands already moving toward the keyboard. "Perfect! Let me just finish typing up this last paragraph, and then we'll get started. Trust me—this is going to be epic."

As the late afternoon sunlight filtered into the Craft and Services Tent, the three settled into an unexpectedly harmonious rhythm. Ezekiel worked on his magnum opus, Noah prepared himself for editorial duty, and Lindsay waited with bated breath to hear the detective saga unfold. It wasn't the kind of scene anyone could have predicted, but somehow, it felt just right.

.

.

.

"You've created a monster," Noah remarked dryly, shooting a sideways glance at Lindsay, who was practically bouncing out of her seat with excitement.

"THAT WAS SO WONDERFUL, IT BLEW MY MIND," Lindsay shouted, her voice echoing as she clapped her hands together. "The way Loraine turned out to be the culprit, but she played everyone—BMO, Pepe, Ronnie—like puppets while taking off with the treasure? Incredible! And then Pepe, the abusive coward, and Ronnie, the jealous brute, meeting their ends? So poetic. But that bittersweet breakup between Loraine and BMO? Oh my gosh, I NEED ANSWERS! How did they meet? What happened in their past? Was Loraine some glamorous singer with debts and secrets? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS!"

"Told you people would want a spinoff," Ezekiel said with a self-satisfied grin, leaning back in his chair. His tone was triumphant, even as Noah rolled his eyes so hard they nearly got stuck.

"And you already have three books in progress," Noah shot back, his arms crossing as he fixed Ezekiel with a pointed look. "Now you're throwing around ideas for a fourth? You need to take a break, man. Like, for real. We're not on Playa del Losers anymore; this is season two. We've got a new challenge coming up in just a few days. Even if you're on a different team, I'm not about to let you burn out because you can't stop writing about murderous chickens."

Ezekiel shrugged, the grin on his face dimming slightly as he considered Noah's words. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But honestly, I think I'm good for the rest of the week. That reading just inspired me, you know? I'll probably just jot down ideas if something comes to me, but I won't overdo it."

He turned to Lindsay, who was still buzzing with enthusiasm, and gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Lindsay, but this chapter's just one piece of the puzzle, and I've got other books to wrap up first. But hey…" His eyes lit up with a fresh spark of energy. "How about this? Next time I work on a new chapter, you can be the first to hear it again. I'll even do another live reading for you."

Lindsay's excitement, if possible, doubled. Her face lit up, and she clapped her hands together again, practically vibrating with joy. "Really? Oh my gosh, you're the BEST, Zeke! I can't wait to hear it. You have no idea how much fun this was!"

Noah sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Great. So now you've officially roped me into proofreading and indulging your new number-one fan. Fantastic."

"Oh, come on," Ezekiel teased, giving Noah a playful nudge. "You had fun, admit it."

"Sure," Noah replied flatly. "Nothing brings me more joy than discussing noir chicken love triangles and grammatically questionable heist stories."

Ezekiel chuckled, clearly unbothered, and started gathering his notes. The late afternoon sun filtered into the Craft and Services Tent, giving the space a warm, golden glow. Between Lindsay's unabashed enthusiasm, Noah's begrudging support, and Ezekiel's infectious passion, the moment felt oddly perfect—a little pocket of camaraderie in the middle of the chaos that was Total Drama.

---

"Would you girls like some more juice?" asked the man of the house—none other than Courtney's dad, his tone polite yet warm as he gestured to the pitcher of orange juice on the dining table. Sitting across from him were two young women from Cree descent, sisters who had driven all the way from British Columbia on the other side of Canada. The younger of the two was Sky, and next to her sat her older sister, Jane. After two grueling days on the road, they had finally managed to reach Ottawa.

"No, thank you, sir," Jane replied politely, offering him a courteous smile as she adjusted her ponytail. She looked tired but composed, holding herself together despite what it had taken to get here.

The truth was, Sky would have much preferred staying home, but Jane couldn't pass up the sudden job opportunity that had landed in her lap—a lifeline at a time when she desperately needed one. Courtney's unexpected call a few nights ago, as dusk settled over their home, had sent Jane into a mild panic. Scrambling to prepare, she drove as quickly as she could without risking traffic violations, all while dragging Sky along to make sure she wasn't left unsupervised. Jane adored her little sister but had learned the hard way never to leave her alone for too long—she didn't want to repeat the mistakes of the past.

Despite the whirlwind of events, Jane found herself unexpectedly grateful for the opportunity. With her internship ending prematurely due to the company going bankrupt and her temporary college work on hold for five days, she had been scrambling to figure out how to pay rent. The timing couldn't have been better. The exhaustion from the long drive faded slightly as she allowed herself a moment to appreciate the strange turn of fate that had brought her here. Maybe, just maybe, things were looking up.

Meanwhile, Duncan sat on the opposite side of the table, casually munching on a muffin as he watched the sisters with mild amusement. His usual smirk played on his lips as he observed their contrasting demeanors—Jane's composed professionalism and Sky's restless energy. Across the room, Sky was sitting at a computer alongside Courtney's younger sister, Kate, who was enthusiastically showing her something on the screen.

Duncan had mainly tagged along to support Courtney, but he was also there to clarify their shared vision for the Total Drama Aftermath project. The duo had spent their morning absorbing lessons from none other than the King of Brazilian Television himself. The experience had lit a fire under them, filling them with big ideas and determination. While they waited—hopefully not for too long—for the promised DVDs and VHS tapes that would show them how a show was truly made, they were determined to keep refining their plans. This meeting was one more step forward.

"By the way, thanks for bringing your sister all this way," Duncan chimed in, leaning back in his chair and gesturing casually toward Jane. "Courtney's been talking about this project non-stop, and having someone like you step in as Director Manager? That's gonna make things way easier for us."

Jane gave a small nod, her expression shifting to one of quiet gratitude. "I'm happy to help. It's… actually a relief, if I'm honest. I needed the work." She glanced at Courtney, who was poring over a folder of notes nearby. "And the timing couldn't have been better."

"Sounds like fate to me," Duncan said with a wink, earning a subtle eye-roll from Courtney, who was now checking the clock on the wall.

Courtney's mom, Victoria, entered the room moments later, holding a small stack of papers in her hand—the contract. Her heels clicked lightly against the floor as she approached the table, her expression calm and professional. "Alright, Jane," Victoria said, offering her a reassuring smile as she handed her the papers. "Here's the contract. I've looked it over, and everything's in order. Once you've signed it, you're officially part of the team."

Jane's shoulders relaxed slightly as she accepted the papers, scanning them with practiced ease. It was a good opportunity, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that everything seemed legitimate. She looked up at Victoria, then Duncan and Courtney. "Thank you for trusting me with this. I won't let you down."

"You'd better not," Duncan said with a grin, though his tone was lighthearted. "This is our shot at making something big, and we're not letting those producers mess it up for us. That's where you come in—keeping them out of our hair while we make some actual magic happen."

Jane chuckled softly, signing the papers and handing them back to Victoria. "I'll do my best. It sounds like you two have a solid vision."

As the room settled into a more relaxed atmosphere, for the first time in what felt like weeks, Jane allowed herself to feel hopeful. This job wasn't just a paycheck—it was a chance to be part of something bigger, something exciting. As Sky leaned over to show Kate something on the computer, Jane couldn't help but think the trip might not be so bad after all.

Kate and Sky were giggling uncontrollably at the screen, their laughter growing louder until it spiraled out of control. The noise drew the attention of the rest of the group mid-conversation. Jane, Victoria, Courtney, and Duncan turned to see Kate with tears streaming from her eyes and Sky clutching her belly, struggling to catch her breath from all the laughter.

"Guys, you've got to see this," Sky shouted between giggles. "You won't believe what's on the Forum right now!"

Jane, Victoria, Courtney, and Duncan exchanged confused glances before walking over to the screen. Jane rewound the video as Sky pointed out the title. "It looks like the Killer Grips are using the studio to make videos for the Forum," Sky explained, wiping at her eyes as a fresh wave of giggles threatened to bubble over.

"I don't even know what 'SAO' means, but this is hilarious," Kate added, jabbing her finger at a particularly user comment. "Especially this one—'CODYKINS NOOOOOOOO!'"

"Codykins?" Duncan and Courtney repeated simultaneously, their brows furrowing in sync as they glanced at each other. Clearly, neither of them had any context for this bizarre situation.

The group crowded closer, their curiosity piqued. On the screen was a paused frame of Cody standing awkwardly, Katie lying on a bed behind him. The title of the video boldly read: SAO Abridged, Kirito Proposes.

"What even is this?" Courtney muttered as she hit play.

---

Their first night of sex had been amazing; both of them were virgins before even having a good interaction with the real world society; their only interaction had been online, but since the bug was caused by a cruel creator of MMORPGs, both Kirito and Asuna had to pass the floors of the flying island of the cruel fantasy world as the rest of the other players and do their best to remain alive since they would be dying in the real world in case they died in the online game.

After almost losing his life, Kirito was found on the braces of the girl he both liked and annoyed her. The young boy sociopath who never believed in humanity found a girl who just accepted him as the way he was, even though she was a freaking psychopath.

But still, a night of sex was a great experience for both of them.

Asuna was lying on the bed; her tan skin was beautiful while she was wearing lingerie. Kirito was wearing his black long-sleeve shirt and black pants while he was on the corner staring at the lamp.

Which proved it was no other than Katie and Cody playing the roles of two characters.

"Ah, that was amazing, Kirito." Katie said as she let it out a satisfied sigh, complimenting the boy who felt a bit edgier than it should.

"Well, at least one of us enjoyed ourselves." Cody said in a monotone tone.

"EXCUSE ME?" Katie asked in outrage, which immediately Cody gave a step back and got into his panic mode.

"I'm sorry, I can't turn off; I'm broken. Please fix me." Cody said as a defense mechanism, which Katie tilted her head, and even as she was still a bit mad, she couldn't help but be touched by what he said.

"Wow, that was almost kind of romantic." Katie said in amusement tone, and at that moment, both Katie and Cody remained quiet…

And while they were frozen, Cody's mind was thinking about another thing. Which there was a slight subtitle with the words... Left Side of the Cody's Brain, Right Side of Cody's Brain.

"Dude! What are you doing? We're blowing this." Cody's left side of the brain said with the same voice as Cody but sounded more outraged and rational than his usual self.

"Well, what are we supposed to say?! We don't even know what made her like us in the first place!" The left side of Cody's brain shouted intimidated as he showed nervousness and panic from a situation like that.

"Fine fine! Just calm down! The hard part's over." The left side said as he looked assured as the things looked smoothly for both of them. They could deal with the situation easily. "As long she doesn't throw us any curveballs, I think we're good."

"Soooooo, what should we do now?" And just like that, Katie asked while she was holding the sheets covering her chest and her lingerie. While she was curious on what to do next.

"FUCK." Cody's Left Side of the Brain cursed, and Cody's Right Side went in panic.

"What the hell is she talking about?! WHAT COMES AFTER SEX?" The right side clearly had no idea what to do at that moment, while everything seemed completely fine since both remained staring at each other as it looked in slow motion.

"I don't know! All the dating sims just to go to credits at this point," Cody's left side of the brain said in a sarcastic tone, as he himself also had no idea what to do.

"Well, she asked a question, sir! We have to say something!" Cody's right side of the brain said as he also didn't want to deal with that situation, and since the left side was the rational side, he was the one who should give something for him to say.

"Look… Just …just anything!" The left side decided to just throw away his thoughts and let his emotional side do the job.

"Anything?!" The right side asked in both panic and disbelief.

"ANYTHING!" The Left Side of the Brain shouted, as the moment both remained in silence, and then he decided to give an extra tip. Saying smoothly as he gave his trust to his emotions. "Just say with confidence."

"Hmm…Alright… here goes nothing." The right side of Cody's brain said nervously, saying what was the first thing on his side of the brain at that moment.

"We should get married." Cody broke the silence for simply saying the proposal.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The left side of the brain screeched in agony, horror, and pain, which made the right side of the brain in panic.

"What?! You said say anything!" The right side asked in disbelief but also in fear, since now it was the first time his left side screeched in such a terrifying way.

"Anything except THAT obviously!" The left side shouted as he himself was also feeling panic from how the right side of the brain screwed up so badly.

"I'M SORRY, I don't work well with pressure." The right side of the brain, which the left side of the brain sighed and took a second to compose himself.

"You know what? It's fine, forget it." The left side thought rationally as a good possibility to revert the situation, so it appeared the right moment for the idea. What perfect timing. "Well just play it off as a joke. No harm done."

On that moment, both sides of the brain stared at Katie, who had her eyes watered and a kind smile on her face.

"Yes. Let's do it." Katie said with all the happiness of the world.

"YOU FOOL! YOU'VE DOOMED US ALL!" The Left Side of the Brain shouted as it was too late to save themselves from the situation.

"Hey, uh, she seems pretty happy about it!" The right side of Cody's brain pointed at that, as it made him wonder if he hadn't actually made a mistake. Which made that side of the brain may have some optimistic view that nothing is wrong. "Maybe she knows something we don't!"

While inside Katie's brain...

"BITCH, WHY THE FUCK DID YOU SAY YES?!" Katie's left side of the brain shouted at the other side while Katie still had the happy smile on her face.

"I DON'T KNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW" The right side of the brain shouted in panic.

Both couples seemed to be completely screwed to that point.

To be continued...

---

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA," Duncan, Courtney, Jane, and possibly everyone who is a grown-up adult or had been in a relationship similar to Cody had been laughing because of how real that scene was.

And while everyone is laughing from how crazy hilarious that scene was.

A troll on the forum was passing the whole night eating ice cream and crying for not being the one who made the boy lose his first time, but also she wasn't the girl who he had proposed. She had been crying until sleep, not that anybody cared about her anyway.

---

At the morning of the challenge, Ezekiel woke up still feeling mentally tired. It wasn't that awful, but it had been the third time he failed to pass the first glass room; he had no idea what to pass it before crushing him as a whole, and when he woke up, he felt his mind sharper, but even so, he was feeling the loss of nutrients from vomiting every bad thing from his body. It was a good way to clean up the impurities, as it was explained on the letter given by Dawn, but even so, losing proteins and carbs could be wrong if he exhagerates. Thankfully, Chef and Izzy are helping him with that; his mind and body are getting stronger, but the price was the mental exhaustion; he was feeling his mind wanting to rest more. And like Noah said, maybe it was the time for him to rest his mind for the whole week.

Now since their team was the first to win the reward and Izzy won the challenge that haunted her on the canon forever, he's sure they would do their best to make their team keep winning and do better than what Killer Bass did before most of them said the word condor." It's a chance of redemption and victory for many.

Izzy appeared with her smile and determination to win again; she was relieved and ready, just like Ezekiel. What kind of challenge would it be? Chef is going to reveal the genre of movie.

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.

.

"Noir," Chef Hatchet commented, as on that moment Ezekiel blinked in surprise.

"Really?" Ezekiel asked, as he was very surprised, "Is that a coincidence? Because I literally was writing a chapter of my book being Noir theme a few days ago."

"Yes it is a coincidence; I saw Chris spin the genre wheel, which went directly as to which genre would go." Chef said as he saw Ezekiel and Izzy now more eager for the challenge, but since neither of them wants to know what the challenge was about, only the genre, it would be enough for them to deal with the challenge.

It was the time for the challenge.

---

Omake…

3 people walked towards a house in Orlando, a resting grounds and a house for a family, as it was empty, but on the frontyard of the said house, there were pictures, flower vases, messages, notes, and balloons. The trio, seeing they were alone, sat with their backs to the fence.

" The one who, against your own producers, believed in shows that shaped the Brazilian culture while also bringing international shows and shapping us into our own treasure. El Chavo Del Ocho and Chapulin will always be treated as our national treasure because you believed in Roberto Bollãnos, O show do Milhão, what was marked and made families to unite and try to measure their own intelligences. The House of Artists was the thing that you will crave as something Big Brother Brasil will always dream to be, and they will always fail against you. "

One of them had said, A boy who looked it came from the university, dressed as a teenager boy who got prepared to see the world and learn about them.

"You showed how the public wanted, and you gave us something to laugh at in times everyone needed when Brazil struggled with constantly suffering... You didn't care about humiliating yourself because you laughed and had fun. Because you knew what it was like to be poor and fought with teeth and nails to be able to reach the top. I once said at the time you would go, Brazil would stop, and it stopped."

The other one seemed to be a boy wearing a winter hat, a green jacket, and even having a different haircut while having the logo of Cartoon Network on his back. Continued as he was keeping talking about the man.

"You changed your country with your charisma and being yourself; when you left, every single person who was your rival showed nothing more than gratitude because you helped them to grow up in their careers; you taught everyone the right path."

The man who said that was a person who was dressed in a suit with a beard that covered most of his beard, as he seemed to be known as a famous writer and CEO of a company. Full of money, he didn't seem to mind speaking his heart.

Until the boy who was from the university took a picture from his pocket and placed it on the fence. A picture of an old man spinning a wheel.

"My grandfather was in one of your shows, and they really needed the money and hearts. In the same way, we always laughed at seeing you on television. Many who would have died, it would have shown the worst of them and the scandals it brought after death. But not you; you went as every single channel you worked had only good things to say about you; you were the one who worked so many hours not only because of the public but also because you loved your job. You taught us about determination, 10 percent inspiration, and 90 percent transpiration. And how, in the end, it doesn't matter when, in the end, the good will always win against the evil... Even if evil can win for years, decades, or millennia, in the end the good will always win against the evil."

The boy who had the winter hat continued to vent his heart.

"Just like Betty White, Queen Elizebeth, we thought you would be with eternal youth, but it seems all of us will always be human, and the treasures of the world slowly were leaving this world."

The man next to the boy decided to continue and showed the emotions on his face.

"The documentary they made about you is wonderful; Duncan and Courtney clearly showed their deepest emotions talking about you… I cried so hard, and my family as well. It's been a few months, but your departure clearly affected everyone who watches your daughters trying to follow your legacy. But I think that's how you wanted to be. You didn't need a burial because of your religion, but doesn't mean you didn't leave a legacy and a hole in the heart of a generation… but that's how was part of life, death… but still, I came here to tell you with my heart… thank you for everything."

…

The trio got up, and as slowly each soul diminished as it became one single person, Ezekiel, who had passed, the past, present, and future from the 2 universes who had the same connection with only one thing. The person who left that world. Cleaning up his tears, he decided to go on.

"I know heaven is having a lot of laughs with you around. You may cause some problems if you want to send money airplanes across the world, but I think that would be hilarious."

Ezekiel said as he slowly walked away. As his entire spirit disappeared and went back to both the worlds he came from. Since both the worlds he came, it was impactful news, since he was a legend to everyone from that country and the families who had connections to them. A legend of the past who made what the televisions were to there until this day.

"Now it's time for happiness; let's smile and sing. From this world we don't bring anything with us, let's smile and play. La la la la, la la la, la la la la la la la... Silvio Santos is coming... La la la la, la la la, la la la la la la la."

Ezekiel sang as he left, leaving a tiny airplane made with 100 dollars and a stick note on the fence of the house where many fans from the entire country who had connections from Brazil left on the house of the former bilionaire and once known as the King of Brazilian television.

In Memory of Senor Abravanel. AKA. Silvio Santos. Owner of SBT.

The one and the only King of Brazillian Television.

1930 - 2024

"WHO WANT MONEY?!"- Silvio Santos

---

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Author's note:

Since the day of his departure, I wanted so much to make an homenage for him, because he was the one who clearly caused an impact to my country, differently than Geoff and Bridgette, I know with his teachings, Duncan and Courtney will be way better host than everyone from Total Drama would ever be, so that's why I used this as a way to lead their future for the best of what they could be. And on how I wanted this end to be impactful for everyone.

Silvio Santos clearly had a help in the culture I grew up, since my childhood was around El Chavo Del Ocho, and everyone from the SBT thought buying a package containing only Mexican soap operas would be enough, but Silvio Santos said... hey, this has potential for children, and while most of them didn't believe it. He had the last laugh because until this day we as SBT fans we always demand more of El Chavo Del Ocho... Maybe that's why the cast of El Chavo Del Ocho likes to visit and even lives in Brazil sometimes hahaha.

But... Also Silvio Santos let my dad to participate in the segment of the show called Do Everything for Money, which was a little challenge for the audience had a chance of get money while they play a small little game, my dad said he got that money and was able to pay for the car which was very expensive on that time, and my family and I always had good found memories of laughing to everything Silvio Santos did. The pranks which even became international to other countries clearly showed how sharp our comedy was. And still he was humble, and loyal to teach everyone he hires. And was known at the start of Television in Brazil, and was here with the legacy he made... Brazil stopped for a week or two, and there was a hole still we are trying to fullfill, it was sad, but we have to move on...

Thank you for teachings and for making us laugh in the times we needed most Senor Abravanel. I hope you rest well and have joy for where you are going.

Ass: CaioCoia